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Chapter Text

‘This one’s not a real pirate,’ the naval guard grumbled, fingers taut against your chin as he lifted your face to the sky. Your leather hat dropped to the floor with an unceremoniously heavy thud, eyes squinting as the sunlight cast itself upon your now bare face. ‘She’s got all ‘er teeth.’

Your scratched knees pressed hard into the polished deck you’d been thrown on to, the expansive cream sails of the Royal fleet flapping above you as the salty sea air slapped your face with every chance. 

‘Personal hygiene,’ you pointed out with a whisper, glaring back at the man that was dangerously close to your face with half a row of blackening teeth himself. ‘You should look into it.’

His lips fell into a tight line as he leaned back, sneer falling away as another guard stumbled up to his side.

‘If she’s not a pirate, then why was she trying to rob our gold?’ He queried, his attempted hushed concerns not entirely subtle, and his scrunched up face highlighting his true scepticism.

‘It’s like the point is right in front of you and you somehow still miss it,’ you muttered under your breath, at this point utterly perplexed as to why these two guards were struggling so much.

‘She’s not a pirate,’ the first one spat adamantly, gesturing towards you before waving his finger back and forth in front of him. ‘Him maybe, but not ‘er.’

The boat continued to rock with the lulling waves of a nearing shoreline, the knowledge that your dingy was likely left to rot back in the open ocean as the vessel headed away from your last known location.

You glanced to your side, catching note of an equally disgruntled Eddie on his knees as he eyed you with a narrowed look. You’d known him for too long to understand what the look meant.

‘Don’t antagonise them,’ he implied, eyes broadening as if to punctuate his point. 

The eye roll you responded back with did nothing to calm his nerves, if anything riling him further as he understand you similarly.

‘This is boring,’ your look suggested, the bickering between the two guards ahead snapping you back to the moment as you shot them both a teasing smirk.

‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,’ you challenged, a taunting tone lacing your voice as their eyes fell back on you.

A rather choppy wave rocked the boat suddenly, their legs dancing along the deck as they grappled with their balance, you and Eddie expertly stable as you watched them wobble with their lack of sea legs.

‘What?’ They hissed, another douse of confusion coating their features as if the momentary movement of the ship tossed the debate of whether you were a pirate or not, out of their mind.

‘Swords,’ you pouted, grinning up at the men.

Their eyes widened, scanning over your ransacked body, your pile of weapons cast aside as you knelt before them in your ragged clothes only. There was no way a sword was still on your person, and yet your teasing almost pushed them to test. 

‘No woman would speak like this if she weren’t a pirate.’

‘Unless she’s a whore,’ they reasoned aloud together.

‘Aw,’ you cooed, ‘you flatter me really but no… just a pirate.’

Their shoulders stiffened as they turned between themselves, continuing to converse in poorly concealed voices as you took a moment to scan the rest of the ship.

The level that you and Eddie had been amassed to rose a little higher than the main deck, tucked behind the helm as you had full view of the workings of the ship. The sails above billowed with the sea breeze, ropes knotted expertly to togs along the edges, and the crew milled about below, bustling about as instructions for port began to be yelled.

‘Besides,’ the first guard looked down at you smugly, bringing you back as you struggled to dull the glare you shot his way, ‘once your crew realises you didn’t make it back, they’ll come lookin’ for you.’

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, Eddie himself scoffing under his breath at their cluelessness as they seemed physically baffled at the reaction.

‘Don’t be daft. It’s against code,’ you jeered, biting the inside of your cheek to smother the full grin that threatened to appear. ‘Every man for himself.’

The two men studied you now, their royal blue jackets and gold buttons gleaming under the beating sun, as their starched white hats did little to shade the never ending puzzlement that donned their profiles. Their gaze tapered, lips twisting down in a disheveled grunt as they clearly missed the sentiment behind the colloquial statement. 

‘’Cept you’re a woman.’

‘How perceptive of you,’ you sighed.

The cloudless sky allowed the hammering sun to kiss your skin, sweat pooling along your brow before your bound wrists lunged for your hat with the guards next distraction of travelling into the bay. 

The welcomed shade from the overhead pier was brief as you disembarked, the readying of a horse and carriage at the end of the dock catching your eye. 

The transport was unlike anything you’d both encountered before, having your fair share of escaping the common pirate ritual of a hanging once or twice before, yet this carriage was donned in a similar blue and gold emblem that matched those in uniform around.

As you were shuffled down the pier, nearing the neat coach and silver horse, Eddie couldn’t help but voice the constant question that tugged at his thoughts. 

‘You’re not going to hang us then?’

‘No,’ a new officer replied, his voice bored and mood uninterested as he guided you both to the open door. ‘Unfortunately our King doesn’t believe in senseless killing when you can be of use.’

The plush, cushioned seats stank of perfume, a pleasant smell likely to mask the stench that clung to your clothes as you both clambered inside with the difficulty of bound hands.

‘So we’re slaves?’ You protested, the disgust on your face clear as the officer cast you a final warning look.

‘You’re alive,’ he retorted, slamming the rounded door shut before you began to rumble away with the uneven click of a horses hooves.

~ ~ ~

The chill of the Palace’s marble floors seeped through the thin fabric of your shoes as the soft slap of your heels echoed around the giant domed ceilings. The golden sunlight oozed through the wide open windows, column after column lining the outskirts of the building along a tiled terrace that framed the horizon. 

The Palace itself was tucked into a mountain side, towering over the port and nearby dwellings, its height allowing all its occupants to be the first and last witnesses of that day’s sun. The grand structure that was this Kingdoms Ruler’s home seemed excessive, the sheer amount of steps and rooms you’d scaled that afternoon extreme compared to the lack of people you’d come across.

It appeared as if the home was barren; hollow and vacant with minimal visitors, yet unpredictably spotless and clean.

You were soon shuffled past a scaling staircase, through a pair of heavy mahogany doors, and into a vast room whose ceiling felt like it merged with the sky. You would have stared longer if it weren’t for the excited clapping that rang from the other end of the room.

The endless floor moved under your feet as you were marched forward, your elbows aching from the crooked position your arms had been held in for the past few hours. By the time you finally reached the end, you noticed two regal looking chairs with ruby cushions and excessive gold trimmings that housed two equally regal looking figures, whose beady eyes remained glued on you. With an exaggerated clap and a red cheeked face, the male stepped forward, the three Palace guards that had escorted you and Eddie suddenly dipping with bows as he neared.

‘Your Majesty.’

‘Come come,’ he waved his hands, ‘less of that please.’

His attitude seemed like he was bored with the formalities that came with being a royal figurehead, a gentle conversation quickly forming between himself and the closest guard as their eyes wandered vaguely in your direction.

The natural light that streamed onto the glossy floors illuminated the room to an almost impossible standard. It stirred a distant, hazy memory of yours, from another lifetime perhaps, and the nostalgia that danced in your eyes was all fondly watched by the Queen who remained seated up ahead.

‘Stealing gold then I hear?’ The King soon boomed, turning his attention and broad frame towards you both. His furrowed eyebrows were the only real sign of disappointment, his general jolly composure otherwise giving him away. He had a large white moustache and beard which took over most of his face, and his belly protruded forwards over his belt as the gold buttons on his navy suit stretched with him.

His round nose and chubby cheeks made him seem an entirely content man, continually curious by the creatures brought into his palace.

The King had focused his attention on Eddie, his poor voice mute from the juxtaposed meeting you were half expecting with a slave ruler.

‘Well, no matter, I’m sure we can find something else you’re good at.’ His eyes hadn’t even strayed your way yet, squinting at Eddie further who grimaced under his hold.

‘What can you do boy?’ he asked, straightening up as if he was finished examining this exhibit and was preparing to wander to the next. 

Eddie’s mouth opened, your voice suddenly filling the space instead.

‘He’s excellent with horses.’

The round rouged face of the King circled to you, his face opening in astonishment at your answer as he steadily stomped your way.

‘That’s rather odd for a pirate…’ he murmured, checking over his shoulder with an added, ‘isn’t it dear?’ The Queen nodding in agreement, a mix of interest coating both their faces.

‘S’rather odd for a pirate to be alive this long after capture, yet here we are,’ Eddie mustered, shooting you a grateful smile as the King continued to study you both.

‘Well then,’ the King finalised with a sigh, casually gesturing to a hovering guard, ‘no need for those awful things any longer,’ he determined, a knife slotting between the gnarled knots around Eddie’s wrists. 

‘Don’t forget the girl!’ The Queen called out, the guard swiftly stepping in front as your arms were finally released.

‘Of course.’

‘I say take the boy to the yard, see about if the stables require a hand,’ the King instructed, an orderly scuffle coming from the nearby guards as they scooped Eddie into a dragging hold. You watched as he was hauled away, a cheeky grin sent over his shoulder your way calming the squirming concern that tugged at your diminishing smile. 

As he was hastily guided out of the room, your attention turned back to the Queen who had slowly made her way over. Her expression was soft, inviting almost, and her eyes seemed kind as her smile rose to meet them.

‘You can be one of my ladies in waiting,’ she stated rather matter-of-factly.

She seemed almost excited at the prospect, positively giddy at the idea of having a pirate amongst her girls. You snuffed the scoff that danced in your throat, forcing a tight lipped smile her way which she read immediately. She stepped forward, clasping her hands over yours as she lowered her voice.

‘If being a lady unsuits you so, you can think of yourself as more of a mercenary if you like?’

‘A merc in a dress…’ the King scoffed at the thought, his jolly under tone wobbling his stance as he laughed at himself. 

Your eyes flicked warily between the self humouring King, the doting Queen, and the barren door Eddie had just been walked through, inhaling sharply as your gaze finally fell back on the lady in front of you.

While her attire seemed extravagant, the soft, dainty like persona that creeped through the royal velvets and glistening jewels soothed all the garishness. The light blue silks that draped off her hips matched the topaz stones that twinkled at her ears and neckline, and her hair was curled intricately high, singular loose curls framing her face.

For all intents and purposes, she was like a sapling daisy that had been cloaked by an overbearing oak; her pure, innocent curiosities swaddled by the duties of the crown.

You could see why the King and Queen were so alike, and so suited.

‘What would be my duties?’ You enquired, the Queen quickly explaining her requirement for protection. She’d gestured wildly amongst her rambling, and while the enthusiasm behind her words seemed overpowering, her sentiment was clear and rang true.

‘I don’t think she can be your protector my love,’ the King was soon to interject, silencing the babbling woman as you turned to look at him oddly.

‘You could challenge me to a duel if it would make you feel better,’ you challenged, the Queen’s eyes glimmering with glee. It was evident they hadn’t had a conversation with someone who was brave enough to speak their mind so freely for a while.

‘Oh she’s feisty. I like her!’

‘She’s a pirate dear,’ he responded in kind, chuckling to himself as he too thoroughly enjoyed the wit your words held, ‘of course she’s feisty.’

‘Well,’ she hummed back, tickling your hands with her soft grasp once more, ‘not any longer.’

The finality of the sentence pricked your throat, a lump forming as you registered the situation of this new job.

‘Do I have to wear a dress?’

~ ~ ~

The hot water stung your skin as you sunk further into the balmy bathtub that resided by the roaring fire. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a bath this delicious; the attempted tepid tubs the ship would provide were nothing compared to this, and your skin tingled from the heat. 

The ladies that had stripped and scrubbed you were polite enough, muttering inwardly as they struggled to unknot your hair or remove a persistent grubby mark. They’d doused you in bubbles and scented oils that clung to your skin and hair, and once finished left a pile of silks on the bed that you suspected turned into a droll dress when lifted. 

You sank lower into the tub, the water pooling over your head now as the boiling bubbles filled your ears, and the crackling fire tried to trickle through. If you blocked everything out, you could imagine being back in the sea, floating effortlessly as you bobbed with the waves, the sails wrestling to find wind as the crew remained undeterred by the pause. 

Except now your skin was buttery soft, hair glassy smooth and clothes supple and clean. The crust of sea salt had been well and truly washed away. 

When you finally perused the nightclothes provided, towel sloppily slung under your arms as you padded across the swept stones, your gaze fell on a nearby closet. The doors creaked open with a gentle tug, and endless ruffles and frills met your eye. 

You groaned loudly, ransacking some boxes below before successfully finding a thin shaped drape which was likely only meant as an undershirt. It reminded you of a distant memory, your mother complaining about the many layers a woman of court was required to wear, and before you could swamp yourself with your past any further it was chucked over your head to be out of view. 

The fire continued to blare from the far side of the room as you crawled under the heavy covers and feathered quilts. The pillow puffed around your head, and your stare remained fixed on the ceiling as you willed yourself to sleep. 

For the first time in however many years, you weren’t falling asleep to the sound of the waves, gently rocking with the sway of the boat as your hammock creaked at its knots. 

For the first time in a long while, you weren’t surrounded by numerous snoring men, their lips smacking from dehydration and inebriation. 

For the first time since forever, you weren’t within breathing distance of Eddie. Ever since you joined the crew, Eddie had been rigidly by your side. He’d demanded your hammocks be near each others, challenged anyone who looked at you weird, and refused to sleep if you weren’t within reach. 

The crew had often commented on the bashful romance brimming between you both, but as time strung on, they realised just how deep your love ran for one another. 

With a heavy sigh you tore the excessive covers back, tying a loose throw over your shoulders before deciding on where to stroll first. 

You weren’t going to sleep, so might as well make note of your new prison. 

The Palace was like it had been dipped in a blue ink, a milky moonlight streaming over the marbled terraces and columns as the fresh night air swished through every open window. The air itself smelt green, lush from a forest that dusted the tops of a nearby mountain, and as you meandered further along you came across a well worn door, soft discoloured patches around the handle from constant use.

The wood creaked from your gentle shove, a darkened must of old paper soon filling your nose. After striking a candle, the warming light danced off the spines of hundreds of books, shelves upon shelves of manuscripts and papers filled up to the ceiling.

The moonlight wandered across the rugged floor, time passing by peacefully as you found yourself settled amongst the books. You didn’t realise you must have left the door unlatched for someone to wander in undetected.

‘You must be the pirate,’ a voice spoke, soft to accompany the nights quietude, but harsh enough as if it carried some weight, some authority.

Your gaze had lifted for a moment from the open book in your lap, catching sight of a tall man entering the space. His hair was swept back off his face, long enough to catch behind his ears, and his shiny shirt that clung to his broad frame had buttons undone, as if the formality of the day had seemingly passed. 

‘You’re rather observant,’ you noted back, dropping your gaze again as you continued to watch him carefully through hooded eyes as he rounded a corner, nestling within the shadows of the library as his eyes finally landed on you with a weighted pause.

‘My mother told me she had a new lady today,’ he explained casually, head bobbing slightly at the admission.

‘Ah… he’s a Prince,’ you thought, silently continuing to ignore him with a dimly dipped head. Your unresponsiveness dissuaded him slightly before he picked back up, lips twisting in recognition for a second.  

‘You speak awfully well for a pirate,’ he smiled, lazily with parted lips as if the statement alone was a wonder. 

‘Manners cost nothing,’ you pursed back with a tight pout and an even tighter expression. Your emotionless, uninterested face had uncharacteristically not worked, despite your entire focus remaining on the dusty pages in front of you, he persisted.

He nudged his weight away from the hefty wooden bookcase, feet swaying slightly as he steadied himself again.

‘I didn’t know pirates could read either-‘ he mused aloud.

You slammed the book shut, tone clipped as you ignored the inner longing to continue reading in peace.

‘-And I wasn’t aware that Prince’s were usually this nosy.’

Your eyes finally caught on his, his lips curling slightly at the recognition, a cocky lustre to his pose finally being allowed to shine at your open acknowledgement of him how. 

‘Can you blame me for being interested?’ His eyes warmed on you, your brows furrowing as you placed the book back on the shelf, pushing yourself to your feet to fully engage in the conversation.

‘Interested?’ You repeated, ‘Thought this was more an interrogation.’

You rested your shoulder against the nearby wooden unit, crossing your arms over your chest as you studied him further, releasing nothing to your face.

‘Well I could pull out the shackles if that’s what you really want? Make it a proper interrogation.’

You instantly understood the hidden insinuation in his tone, and if it wasn’t for the darkness shrouding the room and the way he evaded the candlelight, you would have sworn he was smirking.

Your lack of response however stumped him, your monotonous face giving nothing away as he instead cleared his throat, realising he may have missed the mark with his premature flirting.

‘I’m Steven by the way,’ he offered, eyebrows raising at the expectation of your response. At your silence he continued still, ‘but I … prefer Steve. My friends call me that.’

‘Well it’s a pleasure to meet you Steven,’ you sarcastically replied, stressing the enunciation of his full name, as his disheartened look immediately traded back to the signature simper he’d held for you so far.

He’d rocked on his foot for a moment, the habit of reaching forward to kiss a ladies hand after introducing himself so deeply ingrained it stumped him when he noticed your hands remaining firmly tucked under your arms.

You knew the rules, the etiquette, the manners. But you were a pirate now, and you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of sweeping you back into this realm. You’d stumped him really, his mouth gaping for a second as the candlelight accidentally caught him faltering.  

The sun-kissed strands that littered his head contradicted his darkened roots, suggesting the Prince had a forbidden love for the outdoors, and his large unadorned hands flexed at his side as if from strain. If you looked close enough, spots of dried mud caked up the cuffs of his trousers, and as if he could tell how intently you were studying him, his thoughts were suddenly being spoken aloud again to distract you.

‘I thought it was bad luck for a woman to be on a boat?’ the Prince speculated, your eyes narrowing on him for a breath.

‘A common misconception amongst the misogynists of the sea,’ you assured, feigning a sweet smile - the only smile you’d offered so far - as the venom dripped from your tone. ‘But it’s good to see where your loyalties lie.’

Immediately you stormed forward, effortlessly skirting around the chairs and shelves as you made to exit the room. Steve had whirled on his heel, garbled apologies spilling from his tongue as he called out to you.

‘No I…’ he stumbled, ‘that’s not what I meant-‘

‘Goodnight Steven,’ you interrupted with a raised voice, a finality to your tone as you ended the conversation with your leave.

The welcome chill of the sea air bruised your blushing cheeks as you returned to your quarters, the tiled terrace feeling longer somehow even with your quickened pace, as you struggled to comprehend how you were to ever survive in this stifling prison.

Chapter Text

Needles of straw stabbed the soft skin of your back as you lay flat against a scratchy pile of hay, your arms and legs stuck out in all directions as you fought the urge to sniff your nose. Eddie continued to scrape a shovel along the floor, the cart in the centre of the stable wobbling wonkily with every new scoop it collected. The rickety roof rattled with the wind, and as your eyes remained trained on the wood above, you missed the fond look Eddie shot your way as he paused.

‘You’ll get muck on your dress,’ he commented, clearly more concerned about the state of your dress than you. ‘The King will have my head if he sees you like this.’

You quickly scrambled yourself together, sitting up with a smirk as your eyes landed on Eddie.

‘My father wouldn’t dare hurt you,’ you spoke rather adamantly, the assuredness of your tone warming Eddie’s poor young heart, ‘not when he knows that I love you so much.’

‘Sure sure,’ Eddie mumbled, turning to hide his growing blush as you slumped back down with an exaggerated flop.

‘It’s just so boring,’ you sighed heavily, your young adolescent brain brimming from your afternoon of lessons. 

‘I don’t care how many napkins are required, or - or what hand to give an officer. Even Pierre my dancing teacher said I had the two left feet of a rock!’ you practically wailed, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie as he placed down his shovel, and wandered over.

‘None of it interests me Eddie,’ you whined, grinning as he fell into the spot beside you. You sat up then, his hand on your knee steadying you as you shuffled closer. ‘I just don’t want it.’

‘You’re a Princess,’ he murmured as if it were obvious, the tips of his fingers gently digging into the dough of your thigh. 

‘Well I’ve decided that I’d rather be a pirate,’ you grumbled, ‘if the opportunity ever presented itself.’

‘Why don’t you just runaway then?’ He suggested, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and you groaned loudly in response. 

‘Oh yeah sure, like the heir to the throne can just disappear,’ you mumbled, turning to him fully as his fingers offered a gentle squeeze to your knee from the attention. ‘We’ve talked about this Ed.’

‘I know, I know,’ he nodded, shooting you his signature smirk, ‘I’m just saying that if you do decide to runaway, I’d help you.’

‘I know Ed’s-‘

‘And I’d be coming with you anyway,’ he added, both of you giggling at the idea of you escaping the realm together. Your fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the short curls of his hair that danced around his neck, and his warm eyes held you for a second, his gaze wandering your face before scrunching his nose as he reached forward to your ear.

‘Your father will never let you near the stables if you go back like this,’ he murmured, pulling away a chunky strand of straw that had wedged itself in your hair.

‘Fine,’ you grumbled, allowing Eddie to pull you to your feet before he started to diligently pat and wipe you down, removing any sign that you had snuck out to the stables instead of attending your final etiquette lesson of the day.

It wasn’t until many moons later that you finally took Eddie up on his offer, fleeing the Palace under the cloak of night as you chased for a shoreline on horseback before sunrise.

By the time you reached a port the sun was just cresting on the horizon, the tide slowly tugging boats out to sea as the workmen’s day began.

After selling your horse, velvet cloak and a couple of rings, a small pouch of gold allowed young Eddie the courage to wander to a nearby shanty ship. 

He’d come back moments later, grabbing your hand with a grin as he yanked you down the deck towards a stout looking chap. 

His clothes were all different shades of brown, his hat patchy as he chewed on a small ball of herbs. 

‘You ne’er said your friend were a girl,’ the crewman sneered, eyeing you carefully as you struggled equally to watch your facial expressions. 

‘How astute,’ you muttered under your breath, Eddie’s grip tightening around your fingers in warning.

‘I said my friend and I needed passage off land, to join a crew,’ he argued, cheeks burning under the scrutiny as more dirty looks were sent his way from nearby ships. 

‘Plus,’ he spat, subconsciously drawing you closer behind his back. ‘I’ve already paid you, so do we have an accord or not?’

The washed up sailor eyed you again, narrowing his gaze before he spat the chewed up graze to the side. 

‘What can you do?’

‘I can sew,’ you answered quickly and clearly, watching as the lips of every crew man started to curl in amusement. ‘Which judging by the state of your clothes and shoes is something you are in dire need of. Wouldn’t you agree?’

Your statement caught them off guard, the front crewman’s sneer slowly seeping into a genuine smile as he barked out a laugh. His hand shot out, Eddie eyeing it carefully as you fearlessly stepped around his frame. 

Your etiquette lessons screamed at you to offer your knuckles, bow gently and with slow grace before rising with a polite tone of your name. 

But you weren’t a Princess anymore, and judging by the black and discoloured sails of the ship, you were about to become a pirate.

Your palm smacked against his with an over enthusiastic shake, and you beamed up at him as he smiled down at you. 

‘Welcome ‘board missy,’ he announced, nudging you along the plank that bordered your past and your freedom. 

By the time the news of the missing Princess reached the shore, your ship was far out with the tide under the beating sun, your new crew none the wiser of who their new addition really was.

~ ~ ~

‘And this is Constance,’ the Queen gestured to the final girl, a sharp smile pointed back your way as she narrowed her gaze on you. The girl had a rather mean face, tight and stubborn as if she would release a torrent of opinions should she be granted permission to do so. Coupled with the introduction of Fanny, a young bright thing with a very small frame, and Bridget, who’s warm eyes could coax you into a comfort with just one look, you swayed in the presence of the three girls who had seemingly been the Queen’s ladies in waiting for a number of years.

After simmering under the pointed looks of them all, you simply bowed your head, a steady murmur of your name all you’d allow at that point, and the Queen giggled as the introductions were finished.

‘She was a pirate,’ she whispered, as if it were a juicy secret that you hadn’t yet found out about yourself. Yet you’d heard her, loud and clear as you swallowed the sour taste in your mouth from the past tense. Was a pirate. 

Despite the frocks and frills, you felt like your heart had been usurped by pirating long ago. They could dress you up however they liked, but it wouldn’t rope you back into your childhood.

‘That sounds awful,’ Fanny murmured, trying to force a smile as she understood the look across your face, but her timid voice simply highlighted her naivety. 

‘How did you even become a pirate?’ Constance scoffed, a genuine curiosity to her question yet you could tell by her hidden sneer what she wanted to truly ask: ‘How could a woman ever become a pirate?’

‘Were you taken?’ Bridget was interjecting, her calm voice one you understood to be of assuredness, a level balance to help you even out any burden you might carry. 

All eyes were on you, especially the Queen as she settled on an uncomfortably ornate chair near the window. 

‘Well I can honestly say that I chose to be a pirate,’ you answered, measuring your voice to hold back the spiteful addition of ‘I would still choose to be a pirate if I was allowed’ you so desperately wanted to say.

Constance was the first to roll her eyes, the other two simply watching, enamoured by you.

‘I think it’s rather ridiculous, choosing to be a pirate,’ she tried to mutter under her breath, but the Queen caught it, quickly scolding her.

‘Should we require your thoughts Constance we will ask for them.’

‘Course your majesty.’

The morning continued as such; boring questions with mindful people, eager eyes and snuffed smiles. By the time the sun had started to stream full through the thinly veiled curtains that framed the open balcony doors, the Queen was pushing herself to her feet.

‘I have business down near the market,’ she announced, as the room slowly rose to their feet too. ‘This will be a proper time for a tour of the grounds.’ She directed at you, the elaborately dressed woman turning to leave the room as the four of you followed. 

Under the midday sun, the Palace glowed. During the rush of transport the day before, you never really had a chance to stop and sniff the metaphorical roses, yet as you descended staircase on staircase to a lush garden, you truly did have the opportunity to pause and smell the roses. 

The Queen proudly pointed out her newest stock, a flower who’s petals bled from a crimson maroon down to a golden orange, the nearby gardener earning a smile of approval before sweeping on. 

Garden after garden you strolled through, filled with bleached busts, stone staircases and terracotta terraces, trails of low trimmed hedges lining the gravelled path down the mountain. 

Spiked palm trees dotted the skyline, offering occasional shade as you journeyed on, passing fresh fountains soon enough as the green started to mull into a brown. 

The further down the mountain you traipsed, the less the sun could touch you. The town near the port held buildings whose height smothered most of the path, and despite the sun hanging tall in the sky, its beams struggled to reach you. There were a few large openings where crowds were brewing, the dust from the road being kicked up with every boot and hoof, and soon the five of you were ducking down an alleyway hidden by a few stalls.

‘Wait here,’ the Queen softly instructed, waving generally into the expanse that was the dark alley as she swiftly walked through an open door frame. Its sign swung above, creaking with the dry air as you noticed the faded picture of a flower etched into the wood.

Fanny and Bridget were quick to settle on some nearby barrels, Constance having no hesitation to wander to the end of the path and peer around the market. It was like this setup was typical for them, and you carefully stepped over to the seated two girls.

‘Shouldn’t we be in there?’ You murmured, Fanny lifting her gaze with widened eyes as she shook her head.

‘This is the Queen’s private time,’ she replied, ‘we are merely to escort her to and from the palace.’

‘I see.’

‘It’s not too bad,’ Bridget added, a small smile lifting for you. ‘You can go looking round the market if you like?’

Your brows furrowed, eyes darting down the alley to catch that Constance must have done just that. 

‘Is that allowed?’

Bridget chuckled, recognising your apprehension before peering up at the sky. ‘She tends to take a little while in there, so as long as you’re back before the sun hits the spire,’ she gestured to a shabby looking chapel across the square, ‘you’ll be fine.’

You nodded in thanks, briskly walking down the alley before breathing in the false sense of freedom you were to be allowed for a bit.

The corset and dress that you’d been forced to adorn felt muggy and tight against your skin, and the makeshift holster you’d made from a belt sweated against your thigh, the metal of your knife warming from the close contact.

The market was bustling, stalls on tables filled with fruit, spices and cloth. Your natural instinct at your weightless pocket was to sweet talk the owner, distract them for a second before slipping a couple of oranges or a sachet of pepper up your top. 

Your old crew delighted in this tactic, knowing that any day they made port meant a juicy snack or a tasteful dinner. You clenched your fists though as you wandered the space, noting that there was no way that old hobby of yours could be as successful when dressed in the royal silk, like a walking emblem.

The sun continued to traverse the sky, gliding along as you carried on surveying the town. A heavy clang came from nearby, and at the thought of a weaponry establishment your feet carried you over.

You didn’t expect to find Eddie covered in soot, an orange hot hoof resting before him.

‘Rather odd to have a one legged horse,’ you called out, his eyes immediately turning at the sound of your voice, his blackened cheeks creasing with the grin that spread from his lips as he dropped what he was doing, and paced over.

‘My word,’ he bit back the laughter that bubbled at the sight of you, prim and proper as you stood knee high in the swirling roads dust.

You leaned to encase him in a gripping hug, his dirty hands pressing into the soft, navy silk of your back as you hummed at the pressure, before he nudged you away, surveying your face.

He hadn't seen you this clean for too long, and his heart thrummed in his chest with glee for how well you were clearly being looked after. His palm came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing your dimpled cheek before he breathed in sharply, suddenly remembering his current state. He reached for a nearby cloth, wiping your face with a clean corner as he attempted to remove the smudge of black he’d stained your skin with.

‘Dammit,’ he murmured under his breath, eyeing his dirty thumb for a moment before gripping your face as he tugged you closer to kiss your cheek, the moisture allowing some movement to the grime as he was finally able to clean it free. 

‘Hold on,’ he instructed, swatting the cloth at your dress now as you simply giggled at his antics.

As always, he would always take much more pride in your appearance than you would. 

‘Don’t want to get dirt on your dress sweetheart,’ he muttered with a soft smile.

You’d simply stood silently as he marked and kissed and cleaned you up, his rosy cheeks likely from the burning iron he’d been hunched over. 

‘You’re too good to me,’ you smiled, his grin widening impossibly so.

‘Only the best, for the best.’

The compliments were soon flowing from him, his eyes ravenous as they remained glued to your clear skin, expensive lace and neat hair. You had to punch his arm to shut him up to finally ask where he’d been stationed.

‘Stables,’ he answered, a kind look crossing his face, ‘courtesy of you.’

‘You’re welcome,’ you’d boasted, the conversation soon turning to your job as a “mercenary” and your new quarters.

‘Wait so you’re like, a hand to the Queen?’ He smirked, eyes lighting up at the ridiculousness of your situation. You rolled your eyes in agreement, nodding bashfully as he chuckled. ‘Clearly our plan didn’t work very well then.’

You shot him a warning look, scanning the space for anyone listening in as he straightened at the realisation.

‘Evidently so,’ you sighed tiredly, looking across the square as you suddenly noticed the sun. It was just cresting along the edge of the spire, your time soon up as you whirled back to Eddie.

‘Shi- I have to go,’ you hurried, spinning on your heel to move back into the dusty sun, ‘the Queen will be finished soon so-‘

‘Wait,’ Eddie grabbed your wrist, holding you back for a single moment. ‘Where are you staying?’

‘In the Palace…’

‘Which room?’ He pushed, your brain swirling as the urgency to leave filled your throat.

‘Um…’ you peered up at the towering white building etched into the mountainside, ‘one of those windows near that tower there,’ you gestured, Eddies head diligently scanning the landscape. 

‘I get a great view of a fountain,’ you added, watching how he nodded slowly.

‘Well I gotta go Ed’s,’ you beamed, lunging forwards to chastity kiss his cheek. His skin burned your lips, the dimples of his own smile creasing against you before you pulled back. ‘See ya.’

Eddie was speechless as you scurried across the square, his entire being hot from just simply seeing you, and knowing you were okay.

‘Sorry… sorry!’ You panted as you ran down the alleyway, Bridget as always offering a reassuring smile. 

‘S’ok,’ she giggled, stepping closer to you as she pulled out a bright, white hanky from her pocket. You reared your head back as she dived the material closer though, a soft tut escaping her before she started scrubbing at your lips.

The material pulled back murky, and she cheekily smirked at you. ‘You can tell us more about him later.’

You were about to protest before the squeaky wooden door finally opened, the Queen emerging with a content look as she observed her patient girls. 

‘Right then!’ She announced, cheerily clapping before the trek back up the mountain began.

Silence enveloped the group as you waded back up, gentle chatter wafting your way from nearby townspeople. You’d tried to separate yourself from the girls, hoping that the evenness of pairs inclusive of the Queen would cooperate with your isolation, but Constance soon found a way to fall back from the group, coercively copying your pace.

‘So where did you go?’ She demanded, her nose high as if she was entitled to the information. You didn’t even bother turning your head her way, gaze straight as you shoes scuffed the gravelled path.

‘I don’t believe it concerns you.’ You heard the slight scoff that left her at your response, but her feet never moved forward, prompting you to return the favour. ‘Where was it that you wandered too then?’

Her silence, coupled with a pathetic huff had you snicker at her, muttering under your breath a muted ‘thought as much’ before you strode ahead, catching up to the other two girls who were engaged in a polite discussion of flowers.

A few small daisies were beginning to crop up at the outskirts of the narrowing path now, and it wasn’t long before the first of many gardens emerged. The stifling sun had steered your route to surrender under the shade of a few enlarged trees, whose roots wound under the perfectly manicured hedges, and towards another vista of flowers the Queen enjoyed pondering over. 

‘So…’ Bridget whispered, sidling up to you as you noticed Constance being summoned across the way. ‘Is he handsome?’

Your eyes sharpened at the question, glaring her way before they simply dulled with her affectionate gaze. The corner of your lips shifted slightly, before you tried to feign naivety.

‘Who?’

Her fingers rose to her lips, gesturing to your previous charcoaled look before she winked. ‘I think you know who.’

In truth, your lips would always tingle from any smile, hug or kiss you shared with Eddie. Years of friendship, followed by years of camaraderie aboard an almost-always sinking ship, it was no wonder you were as close as you were.

The platonic line that you both walked like a tightrope had your heart dancing, but the logistics of something more was something you’d always snuff down. If you didn’t have Eddie, you were certain you’d have nothing. So you settled for witnessing his sloppy attempts at taverns, while he yielded any attempts at the fear your Princess roots would reject his lowly status.

‘You must be mistaken,’ you swallowed instead, a thrilled cry from the Queen bringing you both back to the garden.

‘Darling!’ She squealed, stomping along the cream dusty path to a tall intrusive figure, a now coy Constance trailing the royal pursuit.

‘Mother,’ a too familiar, well styled head of hair responded, bumbling up to the Queen before friendly kisses and hugs were exchanged. Your lips soured at the sight before you three had to join at the Queens request, her waving hand begrudgingly hurrying you over. 

‘What are you doing down here?’ She asked the Prince, his eyes glazing over for a second at the sight of you meandering over. 

He might have been able to pass last night off as some very odd, lucid dream, yet at the sight of you dressed in his mothers colours - the kingdoms colours - his cheeks pinkened, which he only hoped he could convincingly blame the sun for.

‘I…’ he swallowed once he’d found his tongue, ‘-I wanted to see these new…gardenia’s that you’ve done nothing but rave about.’

‘Oh,’ she chuckled joyfully at that, narrowing her eyes at him as if to scope out any ulterior motives. After innocently thinking that there couldn’t possibly be any other reason but to see his mother, she suddenly remembered her audience.

‘Hi Steve,’ Constance sweetly smiled at him, the uncanny delight she held in her eyes for him making him grimace as you dropped your head too; you refused to alert the Prince that you had been watching him as much as he was likely watching you. 

‘Wait…’ The Queen announced, completely disregarding the frankly sickening display of affection Constance seemed to only reserve for her son. ‘You haven’t met my new lady!’

Steve’s lips parted in mock surprise as you were guided over, as if this truly was the first time he was meeting you. ‘I don’t believe I have…’

You stood in front of him now with a rigidly straight back, no attempt to bow or offer your hand as your features tired to remain motionless. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he smirked, ‘I didn’t catch your name?’ 

His eyes glinted with something his mother could not witness, a biting smirk to his tone as you refused to reciprocate.

‘That’s because I didn’t offer it,’ you mumbled monotonously, the Queen cackling at your response as she instantly leaned closer.

‘She’s brilliant isn’t she? Her name’s Mae,’ she explained, suddenly dropping into a dramatic whisper, ‘she’s the pirate.’

‘I see,’ Steve nodded along, eyes slightly hooded from drinking you in before the Queen was looping her arm on the crook of his elbow, enthusiastically dragging him back up the mountain to point out all her new flowers.

The lack of your hat had your face feel flushed, usually the shade a constant for you and yet now, your skin and neck were on display for the sun to caress at all hours of the day.

Your reddening cheeks must have been from the heat you’d decided, and Bridget had simply watched it all.

~ ~ ~

The moonlight trickled through the enormous windows that scaled from floor to ceiling once more. You really didn’t wish to make a habit of stalking to the library under the nights inky cloak, yet after the opportunities you’d had today, you needed to check it while it was fresh.

From walking up and down the mountain and navigating your day by the sun, you’d managed to decipher true north, and how far inland the mountains, and thus the Palace, lay. 

Atop the bulky timber of the central table, you had accumulated a number of scrolls flattened out across the surface. Different weights such as book stands, a compass caliper and a number of expensive looking ink pots were used to hold down the curling corners of parchment, a shabby looking impression of what you were assuming the surrounding land to look like now on display.

The maps in front of you looked ironically different to the ones you would normally sneak a peak at in your fathers office when you were a young girl, yet it was clear now just how much could change in that amount of time - how much more could be understood of the world.

The nail of your finger trailed down a particular groove, your free hand trying to locate its adjoining range on the below map, your focus entirely engrossed on the lines and words before you. 

You thought that you had located something that looked vaguely similar to the kingdom your father ruled, before you were interrupted.

‘Mae,’ the honey tone of the overly friendly Prince drawled out, as if he were tasting your name on his tongue, his boots clicking along the floor as he made no attempt to conceal his entrance. 

‘Steven,’ you offered back bluntly, adjusting your hunched figure as you stepped back from your overzealous studying.

Despite your disinterest, Steve still smiled, a cheeky smirk cocking his lips as he sauntered over. His eyes had remained on your face as he neared, an arrogant glint to them as he spoke.

‘I didn’t realise you were going to frequent this room so often.’

‘We can arrange a schedule if you’d like?’ You suggested, stepping around the table to create a subtle barricade. 

‘I didn’t realise that pirates could be so civilised,’ Steve teased, his eyes still glued to yours as he approached you now.

‘You don’t seem to know a lot then, do you?’ You goaded, a bite to your words as he pouted at the marred insult.

You allowed yourself to study him now, simply mirroring what he had been clearly doing to you, and you took note of the velvet waistcoat that remained undone over another white shirt. It was like, as soon as the sun went down, the Prince were to merely unbutton his duty clothes instead of changing into something else. Something comfortable. Did he even own sleep clothes?

And why were you thinking about the Prince getting ready for bed…

‘Suppose not,’ his eye line scattered to the busy table behind you as he approached, before darting back to your now dusky look within the shadow of candlelight. ‘Are you willing to teach me some things?’

The eye roll fought itself forward before you could suppress it, your weight swaying from the table with a gentle nudge as you tried to make your leave.

‘Goodnight-‘ you started, your direction immediately altered as Steve expertly gripped your elbow, spinning you back to the table where he now observed your evening work.

‘What are you looking for?’ He asked, scanning the numerous maps you’d tried to puzzle piece together. You faced the table now, allowing yourself a subtle glance, taking heed of his genuine curiosity in what you had on display.

‘Nothing in particular,’ you commented, muting the amount of information you were willing to spill. The Prince’s large hands now rested on the surface, locks of hair escaping its loose hold as they jolted with each sharp turn he took to migrate across the maps.

He really was quite beautiful. You could see why Constance was so taken by him.

‘Did your captain have any maps like these?’ His stare lifted up from the table. It wasn’t a rude question, there was a very good chance your captain had similar markings to these, just not in colour, or in such good, unstained condition. 

‘Why?’ You teased instead, not fully trusting this new individual with anything from either of your pasts just yet. ‘Are you considering recruiting a crew, and commandeering one of your father’s vessels with these charts?’

His teeth ran across his bottom lip as he bit down a grin, the eloquence of your words something that he would reflect on another time but for now, he simply chuckled.

‘Only if I knew that you would be joining me.’ 

Joining his crew or joining his cabin, it wasn’t entirely clear, and regardless of the joking manner and fantastical quandaries, your response was reeling from you before you had a chance to consider it.

‘I would do anything, if it meant I could be on the ocean and free.’

The gravitas of your statement sobered Steve’s face, the bravado dropping for a breath as his brows furrowed. His lips parted as another question brewed, his torso turning from the mess of maps but you spun quicker, pivoting on your heel at the fear of allowing anymore sentimental cracks to break through. 

‘Hold-‘ he tried, your retreating figure something he could only watch once more.

‘Goodnight Steven.’

Chapter Text

‘No… a lil’ wider. Yeah!’ Pete instructed, the end of a mop handle tapping your inner ankles as you corrected your stance. ‘Thas’it, see? Don’t that feel strong’r?’

Your legs steadied themselves against the gentle rocking of the boat, the dry decking beneath your shoes creaking with every shift of weight you played with. Your knees were bent, feet ajar with your right slightly in front of the other as the hefty sword hung from your grasp.

‘Yes I suppose so,’ you accepted, lips tight as you refused to acknowledge the audience that had surrounded the upper deck.

The wind had died down to a whisper, the large sails guiding the ship forward at a leisurely pace, and the crew had found themselves at the mercy of their own minds. Eddie had been showing you the correct way to hold a sword, the weight of it simply too much for your fumbling fingers, but Pete the deckhand had taken it upon himself to teach you more than just how to hold a sword. He was going to teach you how to use it.

‘You gotta lift’up higher, pet,’ he told you, your right arm struggling with holding up the lengthy sheath of metal as Pete quickly swept in, cradling your wrist as he corrected your weakening hold. ‘Bit high’r… yeah yeah, good gurl.’

The dried calloused hands of the experienced pirate was rough against your soft royal skin, but you didn’t flinch, trying to embrace your differences and focus on the fact he was helping you instead of throwing you overboard.

‘Now,’ Pete started, hands raised as he moved to stand in front of you, posing himself as your target, ‘lunge.’

‘Lunge?’ You’d repeated back, not quite sure you’d ever been taught such an unladylike position. The skirts and bodice of a Princess would never usually allow something like that, not if the material could rip.

‘It’s a dance,’ Pete continued, ‘you move forward, they move back,’ he mimicked the motions as he spoke, ‘then they move forward-‘ he rushed towards you, his own sword in hand expertly batting yours away with a clatter as you stumbled towards some crates behind you.

‘-and you move back.’

The surrounding crew chuckled lightly at your effort, the sour feeling in your stomach brewing as you eyed the weathered face of the man before you. 

You leant down to yank the sword upright, the tip facing down as it pierced the old wooden floor. You leant carefully on the handle, the brunt of the end kneeling into your palm. 

‘I just don’t understand why this has to be so heavy?’

You were glad the complaint wasn’t seen to as such, the older man smiling at you kindly as he turned on his heel, eyeing up the rest of the deck before wondering off. 

Within a moment he was staggering back to you, a smaller blade in his hand as he flipped it in his hold so the handle was facing you. 

‘Try this.’

The weighty sword was promptly rested against a barrel nearby, your young eyes widening at the new handle slipping into your slender fingers. The metal was lighter, shinier even as you twirled it in your grip, lifting your gaze with a grin which matched Pete in front. 

‘Now then,’ he readied himself, stepping back with mock preparation, ‘lunge.’

And you did. 

The nimble blade danced in your hold, able to bat Pete away with every soft clunk of his sword he swung your way. It was clear to all who watched how little effort he was putting in to actually harm you, no real gusto behind the blows as his arm jerked side to side. 

‘See, tha’s easier aint’it?’

You nodded enthusiastically, your feet lunging forward once more but quicker this time, Pete’s toes having to actually move as your confidence grew. 

A few more dances later and you’d managed to duck under his arm, dodging a new move before you pressed the edge of the blade to his lower ribs. He paused his movements, a hearty laugh bubbling out as scattered applause crossed the ship. 

‘Atta girl,’ he nodded down at you, your heart brimming from the first real affectionate compliment you’d received from an authoritative figure. ‘Lil more practice and you be unstop’ble.’

‘How about young Eddie has a go?’ The nearest crew member, Dickie, yells. He’d had his eyes carefully trained on you both since the morning gale had dropped, watching how Eddie was as gentle with you as a flower, protecting you from any sword crushing your soft petals. 

The ship almost rocked with how quickly everyone’s attention whipped to the boy at the side, his eyes impossibly round as you stared at him maddeningly, dagger in hand. 

‘Well where’s my sword?’ He argued, voice a little shaky as he realised how keen you were to practice your newly found skills with a knife. 

‘Dunno son,’ Pete shrugged, tapping your shoulder as if you needed the shunt of approval. ‘Bett’r find one quick though.’

‘ARRGGHHHHHHHH-‘ you suddenly screamed, pelting towards your friend as he stumbled over his own feet in a hurry to escape you. 

The crew laughed at your antics, the pure love you shone as kids clear as day as you ran circles around and around the ships mast. 

‘Pete!’ Eddie yelped incredulously, hoping for some semblance of a helping hand from his sea shanty family. 

Pete could barely contain his laughter as you continued to chase him barefoot, the dagger held deathly tight in your grip, glinting in the afternoon sun with every step and swing.

~ ~ ~

Your balcony doors remained open at every opportunity. Their bronze frames were constantly swung apart, the thin veiled curtains gently flapping with the sea breeze that wafted in from outside, and if you focused enough you could hear the hush of faraway waves lapping at the beach below the mountain. 

You’d grown mildly accustomed to the sounds of nature flooding your room, a currently unwelcome change to the harsh slap from the sloppy ocean you so dearly missed.

The dappled mirror that you sat in front of reflected back your tired eyes, your fingers deftly picking out every grip and tie that had been stabbed into your scalp that day. Despite your efforts to minimise the effort put into your appearance, Bridget always had a way of finding you before the Queen did, gently coaxing you into a small nook as she neatened you up for the day. She meant well, and you were grateful.

Chunky ringlets cascaded around your neck now, your head dipping and rolling at the freedom of your muscles, and your fingers were soon digging there way through your hair, carelessly combing out whatever you could, too tired to search for the hairbrush you’d seemingly misplaced.

You were misplacing quite a few things you found, it being far too long that you had something that was entirely yours. As a pirate, rationing and sharing was the only way you’d survive at sea; there was never any need for personal things, the crew slowly turning into a mass of the same person. 

Even as a Princess, items that may have seemingly felt like they were your own, never were. Your horses, your dresses, even your title were never truly yours. It was simply something you borrowed from the crown, your parents, and it was one of the reasons you never once looked back.

You had grown into your own person at the escape, and as you thought fondly back to those many moons ago, you finally realised that you did actually have something that was all yours.

Your Eddie. Throughout everything, he had been there, and you’d been there for him. It was an unlikely pairing, a stable hand and a Princess, but it was only at your insistence that you wanted to ride did your father succumb, sending you down to the stables at a ripe young age, practically throwing you into the arms of friendship with the scruffy boy who didn’t know how to speak to a Princess.

At the soft grunt that suddenly sounded from your balcony your thoughts were interrupted, your head turning in an instant as you swivelled in the large embroidered chair you perched in. The cool handle of your holstered knife slipped to your fingers, but your reach loosened as the intruder finally came into view, an elated smile beaming on your face instead.

‘Eddie!’ You chided, running his way before throwing yourself into his hug.

‘Hey Princess,’ he murmured into your hair, groaning only slightly at the light tap of his head you gave. He loved the nickname, as unwise as it was, and his breath tickled your neck as you pulled back with a grin.

‘H-how did you…?’ You trailed off, peering behind him and seeing nothing but a drop below the stone balcony.

He smirked, dropping his chin as he gleamed at you through hooded eyes. ‘There’s vines practically covering this palace.’

You grinned, stepping back from the open window as Eddie rolled his shoulders before lifting his head. The ceiling was as extravagantly high as the pompous interior, his gaze dropping on every silken cushion, woven rug and intricate piece of pottery that was dotted about the space.

‘Deja vu,’ he murmured, recollecting over all those times he’d clambered into your chambers as a Princess. He wiped his grubby fingers on his trousers, the green juice of the trampled vines he’d gripped on his way up stuck under his nails, and you watched him through the mirror as you settled back in front of it. 

He gingerly reached over to a long legged round table, the chiselled edge brushing his hip as he tenderly picked up a tiny porcelain figure of a girl. He turned it in his fingers, nose scrunching with odd curiosity before placing it back down at an angle.

Your bottom lip was caged between your teeth as you watched him adorably potter around the room, and you finally released the rest of your tightly bound hair with an exaggerated shake of your head.

You groaned loudly, Eddie facing you at the sound as he neared. The candlelight of the room had provided a warm, cosy hue to the space, the flickering lights dancing over his cheeks as you observed how his eyes roamed you, before noticing your reflection staring at him.

‘While you’re here,’ you pursed your lips, scooping your hair over one shoulder, ‘make yourself useful and help me with this will you?’

He chuckled, air escaping from his nose with a dry huff as he stepped forward, the crisscross mash of ribbons coating your back as you gestured to the tight corset you’d not managed to get out of yet.

‘Don’t have to tell me twice,’ he mumbled under his breath, silently cursing himself for the way his thoughts lingered as your smooth skin started to peep through the cotton underneath.

His fingers dug and dove under the taut material that clung to your skin, a heavy pant leaving you as air finally reached your lungs. Your hands had leant forward on the desk before you, head dropping at the relief as Eddie diligently continued to loosen the device.

‘There you are.’

You thanked him as you ripped the corset away, chucking it across the space before moving over to your large four poster bed situated in the centre of a tapestried wall. You flopped onto the covers, heavy breaths leaving you as your eyes sunk closed at the comfort of your ribs being free.

The sweat ridden cotton of your undershirt however clung tightly to your skin, to your chest, and Eddie tried to avert his eyes as they cautiously roamed the valleys of your body. Tried being the operative word.

Once he’d found the strength he rammed his fingers into a nearby blanket, one that was extremely soft to the touch but flimsy when lifted from its resting spot. He threw it at your soundless form, a muffled thump escaping you as the material landed on your face.

It shimmied off your nose as you rose yourself yourself onto your elbows, staring at him oddly.

Being pirates meant that privacy was hard to come by, and it unfortunately meant you’d likely glimpsed more of one another than what was likely acceptable. The number of times that Eddie had stood watch as you bathed in a shallow rock pool, or had to help you clean a gash that no one else dared go near due to its position was nearly matched by the number of times you’d bumped into Eddie changing clothes, or having to haul him out of the brothel when the tide suddenly changed and you all had to rush back.

The perfect slope of his back or curve of a bum cheek had been seared into your memory from those occasions, and you were simply grateful that he had always been too drunk to fully remember the following morning.

To put it bluntly, there was no such thing as privacy when it came to you and Eddie. You were one and the same, and a lifetime of friendship asserted that nothing would change that.

Yet here you were, surrounded by royalty and frills, and he was thrown right back to being a young stable boy, always looking out for the wellbeing and modesty in fear of your father, the King, breathing down his neck in disappointment. 

Your gaze finally travelled down your body as you tugged the material away, finally registering his sudden embarrassment at the sight of your perky nipples poking through the cotton.

‘Nothing you haven’t seen before,’ you scoffed, wriggling the material over your shoulders in a makeshift shawl as you watched his face soften from the sudden decency. 

You rolled your eyes as he stepped closer, as if by increasing your modesty he was suddenly allowed to be near you again.

‘Not in royal chambers though sweetheart.’ His voice was strained as he settled on the bed next to you, the both of you shuffling up towards the feathered pillows.

You hummed in deep thought, the idea that all those undue moments you shared were indeed from close quarters and the peril of the sea, and yet here you were, back in a room filled with expensive fabric and generous candles. It was like you’d stepped back into a previous lifetime, one you so desperately avoided, except you knew so much more now.

‘Stop that,’ Eddie ordered, his placated tone dripping with concern as his fingers immediately dove for the soft skin of your arm, travelling up and down in a comforting pattern before goosebumps riddled you. ‘Get out of your head.’

His arms expertly wrapped towards you, coaxing you closer into the crook of his arm as you slumped into the familiar hold you often found yourself in with Eddie. With practiced ease your legs entwined together, your cheek resting on his chest as his mouth pressed calm kisses to your hairline.

‘It’s all just so surreal though Ed.’

‘I know darling.’

His fingers delicately stroked through your hair, luring little moans from your throat as he held you close. The stretch of moonlit shadows travelled across the floor as you stayed in that position, cheeky conversations as you caught up, both your cheeks squished against the other from the proximity. 

Muffled crashes of waves far off seeped into the quietude of the room, and you swear you felt Eddies heart quicken against your temple from the sound. 

‘Is that the sea?’ He mumbled, voice thick from drowsiness as he blinked his eyes open, pulling himself from the rest he almost succumbed to. 

‘Mhmm,’ you hummed against him, your brows furrowing at the discomfort as he suddenly stirred, rolling off the bed towards the forever open balcony doors. His steps were hesitant as he neared the stone edge, the pause in his pace prompting you to follow. 

‘What is it?’ You asked quietly, the night wind nipping your cheeks as you joined him at the ornamentally carved wall. Your palms pressed into the rough stone, his shoulders dropping as he let out a sigh. 

‘The horizon Princess,’ he pointed out, your finger slapping him half heartedly in warning again as you followed his eye line. 

Sure enough, the cool light of the moon danced across the waves, stretching far out to the edge of the ocean, the entire skyline bordered by the inky black sea.

‘You can see everything from up here,’ he commented, shifting his weight so his elbows pinned themselves atop the balcony barrier. You copied, the shawl fluttering about your shoulders with the light wind, nodding along with Eddie in agreement. 

‘Sure can.’

In a way, it was like one massive tease, that you had been placed in a room with a perfect view of the ocean and yet, prohibited from running back to it, lest you wished to meet the point of a cantankerous Navy’s sword. 

‘No,’ he sighed, swallowing an excited bubble that had travelled up his throat as you glimpsed the bob of his adam’s apple. ‘You can see everything.’

He turned to you, the intensity in his eyes halting your tongue as he pressed on. ‘You can see the entire bay.’

‘I know Eddie,’ you exhaled, clearly not catching the cause for his excitement, ‘trapped away like some fucking damsel who can see it all, but can’t touch, right?’

‘You know for someone high born you sure can be dumb,’ he chuckled mostly to himself, the shock of his comment rendering you still, his arm safe from another thump as he continued. 

‘The ocean sweetheart,’ he nods his head outward, gesturing to the sweeping landscape you were observing. ‘You can see the ships.’

He paused, letting it sink in as it dawned on you. Your nose creased in focus as you scanned the horizon, the bobbing wood and flapping sails of the docked sea vessels ruffling something deep in your chest. 

‘I can see who comes and goes.’

Eddie’s chin bowed in agreement, his long arms expertly winding themselves around you as he caged you against the wall in a loose hold. His warm chest pressed into your spine, his breath brushing your shoulder as he dipped his head and smiled against your jawline. 

His voice had dropped to a secretive whisper, as if suddenly conscious of any prying ears nearby listening into the conversation.

‘You can see if anyone comes back for us.’

‘You’re a genius Eddie,’ you gasped, eagerly turning within his arms to face him with a grin, and half amused eyes. ‘Truly.’

The heat that rushed to the surface of his skin was instant, a bashful smile dancing across his lips as his eyes remained heavy on your face, your eyes, your lips…

He inhaled sharply, as if the extra air was needed for a sensible response, as all his thoughts churned to the magnetic tug brewing between your pressed bodies. 

The night air sharpened him slightly, his eyes blinking before he found his tongue, your own gaze slightly glassy from the proximity. 

‘I have my moments,’ he eventually smirked, the upturned corner of your lips encouraging him further. 

The silken shawl rubbed your shoulder as it slipped down with the wind, the biting tease of the moonlight glittering against your collarbone now as Eddie once again found himself struggling to breath. 

He was utterly besotted with you. Had been for years, and you had always remained a vision to him; whether it was as the carefree Princess who lay in the hay to keep him company, or the fearless pirate who cured, cared and ailed him after every fight he wound up in - either brothel or bar. Even now, as a royal mercenary who remained restricted by gowns and corsets, your tongue and stern look being the only weapon you could brandish on show regularly.

He’d mentally slap himself every time he neared the delusional fantasy of entertaining this prospect, of having his best friend in every way. He knew he loved you, and that you loved him, but bridging the gap to understand exactly how you loved each other was dangerous waters - and you’d both sailed through enough of those to understand that some secrets were not meant to be breached. 

It didn’t mean he had the capacity right then however to stop himself from indulging in your company, from nestling closer to you subconsciously as he breathed out shakily. 

You were certain that from this angle, Eddie towering above you with his gentle imposing frame, that he could see the heavy thumps of your heart behind your rib cage, hammering itself forward with every butterfly that whisked your belly. 

It was almost like the conversation had continued through your eyes now, both of you simply happy in the others company, the moonlight casting dreamy shadows across both your features. 

A sharp knock to your door had you releasing a breath you hadn’t noticed you were holding, the almost whimper like sound having Eddie internally groan as he paced back from where he’d pinned you. 

The reluctant gap between you now allowed a rush of clarity to cloud you, your feet guiding you back inside as your concentration shifted to the guest on the other side of your door. The firm handle of your silver tipped dagger slipped between your fingers, expertly sliding off your dresser as you lightly tip toed closer in a crouched fashion. 

Your eyes darted back to Eddie on the balcony, the well oiled tradition of hiding within your chambers allowing him to glide into the shadows with ease as you turned back to the door. 

The room had remained breathlessly silent, and another knock to the hard wood sounded out loud as you situated by its handle. With one foot firmly placed a step away from the frame, you nudge the door open with a harsh pull, the wood rattling on its hinges as an oddly concerned Prince stood on the opposite side. 

The darkened hallway he’d sulked down to reach your quarters did little to hide the features on his face, or the downright measly attempt he’d made to fully button up his shirt. As usual he looked casual, an air of carefree attitude enveloping him, but his hair gave him away. The moonlight slipped through the wild strands that escaped their hold, and his eyes widened at the warm glowing sight of you, before momentarily narrowing at the notice of only half your form. 

The door pressed into your temple, your body shielding the view of your room as you masked as an obstacle for the inquisitive Prince. 

His lips parted as if he had a well rehearsed line to say, but as his stare bluntly travelled the rest of you, catching on the disheveled nightly attire you donned, he struggled to speak. 

‘Can I help you?’ You asked instead, voice carefully hushed as you heard it bounce around the marbled corridor he stood in. Your lips remained tight, your grip even tighter as your dagger lingered behind your poised back. 

As if the sound of your voice snapped him back, his eyes shot up to yours, the cocky smirk you often saw him wearing instantly returning. 

‘Can I come in?’ He was forgetting himself, his mouth running on instinct with no filter. It was as if you weren’t in a palace, housed by a royal family with royal titles. You were simply just two people seeking company. 

As if he suddenly remembered his manners, a rushed ‘please’ fell from him mouth as he saw your lips purse together. 

‘Why?’ 

Your rejection hit him harder than he anticipated, the friendly banter you had both partaken in these past few days enough to bolster his confidence to think that you would just swing your door wide open for him. 

‘Why?’ He stressed, eyes silently pleading with you as he glared at you, his hand rising to grip the crumbling door frame you were finding yourself leaning against. ‘Because I would like to see you-‘

‘That doesn’t seem like appropriate royal etiquette,’ your remark disarming him alarmingly quick, as if this might have been the first time someone had said no to the royal. ‘Barging into a ladies quarters uninvited and all.’

‘You sound like you’re accustomed to regular meetings with uninvited visitors,’ he quipped back, eyebrows raising in suspicion as you rolled your eyes in response. 

The fact that you were so familiar with royal etiquette once again went over Steve’s head, alongside your properly pronounced statement too, and the unease in the back of his head as to why a pirate would be so well educated was ultimately squashed as you spoke again.

‘Did you need anything?’ You sighed, dejectedly bored by the interruption as you internally flushed at the memory of Eddie just moments ago. 

‘I came to speak with you,’ Steve scoffed, as if his presence was warranted and welcome. 

His large hand pushed against the door as he made to step closer, your hidden hand shooting out at an impressive speed as he paused right in front of you. The sharp tip of your knife had slotted itself just below his jawline, his throat moving the sheath with every swallowed breath. 

Steve’s eyes had widened like saucers, the metal prick teasingly close to piercing his skin as he stared you down. 

‘Why do you have a knife?’ He breathed, lips parted as if he couldn’t decide if he was scared, or turned on by the fact you held a blade to his throat.

‘Would you rather your mother was unprotected?’

A rush of thoughts bombarded his mind at the idea that this dagger was persistently on your person at all times, hidden from the wandering eye or ogle. The tight fitting corsets and dresses you’d sport did nothing to suppress your figure, and he almost found himself cheekily asking where you often concealed it, before he stopped himself. 

‘You didn’t come to the library tonight,’ he stated instead, the sharp tip satirically turning in place as you played with the handle. 

‘I can only assume that means you were waiting for me,’ you pouted, ‘yes?’

The question was meant in jest, your smirk finally dancing on your flat lips, but as you watched his gaze on yours, you weren’t sure how untrue that statement was. 

Steve gave himself away with a moment of hesitation, licking his lips after a feigned huff. ‘-No.’

His eyes glimmered with something you couldn’t catch, and a small wash of guilt came over you at the idea that he very well may have been waiting for you. 

Your presence in the palace had been minimally invasive, but it seemed that clearly your mark had been placed at a spot of regular acquaintance for the charming Prince. 

Then again, you owed him nothing as of now.

‘Well if that was everything,’ you fumbled out, peering around his broad shoulders to catch the moon hung high in the middle of the sky, ‘it’s late. I need sleep.’

His head dropped as if he was admitting defeat, his soft comfortable shoes stepping him backwards from the ajar door.

‘Of course,’ he sighed.

‘And so do you,’ you added, a little more kindly before you shut the door without hesitation.

The closure that came from physically shutting the door had your heart stutter, and you couldn’t decipher if it was from the fear that Eddie would have been found in your chambers, or that Steve had looked remarkably pretty in the moonlight.

‘Who was that?’ Eddie called out, stepping out from behind a large column before resting his shoulder against it. His voice was measured, but you didn’t catch the clip in it as you padded further into the room, the cold stone seeping up into your bare feet as it tamed you.

‘Turns out the Queen has a son,’ you responded rather bluntly, head low as you passed Eddie to the balcony again, the sea breeze begging for your flushed cheeks.

Eddie’s insides were quick to match the green that stained his fingernails, but at your disgruntled expression it mellowed. Silently he followed you outside again, settling next to you by the balcony wall where you’d dramatically slumped yourself down, arms outstretched as the abrasive stone bumped your forehead. Eddie’s fingers were quick to skim your supple skin once more as you sat up.

‘Is he bothering you that much?’

A dry giggle escaped you as you straightened up again, a feeble shake of your head. ‘The entitlement of that man is about as large as an ox.’

That earned a healthy bark from Eddie.

‘But he might have his uses,’ you murmured the last part, eyes now glued back to the rippling shine of the waves far off.

‘Well I think the sooner we get out of here the better,’ Eddie coughed, eyeing the same view now. 

‘Well I’ll stay up here in the Palace and keep an eye out on the sea,’ you determined, casting Eddie a soft look as he smiled with a gentle nod.

‘And I’ll stay in the town, and see if there’s any talk of shipments or visitors.’

‘You’ll have to keep me updated too you know,’ your voice firm as you held his stare. ‘I don’t think it’s going to be easy leaving the side of the Queen very often-‘

‘I’ll come visit you, don’t worry.’ The smile on his lips warmed your heart to a stifling heat, one that had you inhaling sharply.

‘Good,’ you grinned, pleased to have some comfort of a scheme to run by for now. 

‘Sounds like a plan Princess-‘ he smirked, before the back of your hand was slapping his chest once more. ‘-Ow!’

Chapter Text

One thing that people don’t say about rubbing salt into the wound is that despite how much it metaphorically stings, it works. Despite how gruesome the grit can physically feel against the soft, torn skin, is that it works. 

It hurts like shit for a moment, weeping with the fresh air, but ultimately it heals. 

When the crew ran out of rum or herbs, dried salt scraped off a freshly splashed deck was the next best thing. 

‘Hold still-‘ Eddie cautioned, wiggling with you as he followed your flinching arm in his blunt hold. 

His fingers dug into the small pouch of salt at his hip, cradling a small pinch as he lathered it onto the fresh cut that graced your upper arm. You grunted as his palm flattened against the wound, forcefully pressing the aid into your skin with a strength that would have flustered you, if it weren’t for the searing pain coursing through into your shoulder at the pressure. 

‘Nngghh-!’ You huffed out, Eddie’s free hand scooping the unoccupied half of your arm into his hold, pressing further as if trying to manually glue you back together. 

‘Atta girl,’ Dickie murmured at your side, guiding you through the sting with words of encouragement before Eddie shot him a look. 

This wasn’t your first fight. The years that you spent amongst this rabble you now called family meant that fights weren’t uncommon, and you had been hurt before. But as Eddie’s eyes trailed across your shoulder blades he knew this wasn’t the only wound you were hiding. There was a gaping slice to the stitching of your shirt - one of your favourites if his memory served him correctly - and the oozing red of an unattended wound was seeping through the fabric. 

Dickie was soon ushering out the other crew members with a nod, the lower base deck soon emptying as only your grunts filled the silence. 

‘Almost there darling,’ Eddie mumbled, teeth ripping some gauze before he started to wind it around your arm, the white cloth rubbing harshly into the freshly pressed seasoning as you bit your lip. ‘Almost there…’

The barrel he had found himself perched on yearned forward, your own barrel placed perfectly between his open legs as he refused to allow but a moment of space between you both. 

Your watery eyes remained fixed on a plain unscathed board of wood, a wet sniffle bringing Eddie’s attention back to your face after the final knot had been tied near your elbow. 

‘Alright?’ His voice had dropped, almost a whisper, but in the quiet rocking of the ships sleep you could hear it as loud as the sun. 

You nodded weakly, eyes darting to his for a second as you gave him a shaky smile. 

‘Mhmm.’

His fingers tightened at your thighs as you tensed to stand up, the calm commanding touch making you pause and look at him again with a slump . 

‘Your back Princess.’

‘Wha-‘ As if on instinct you rolled your head, trying to peer over your now bandaged shoulder before a twinge sent you back to facing the front. ‘-Ah… what is it?’

His apologetic expression answered you, his long fingers fumbling for the pouch of salt once more as you rolled your eyes and steeled yourself. 

‘Fine,’ you grunted, unflinching as his nimble fingers started to hike your stained shirt up to rumple around your neck. Your entire back was on display now, but Eddie remained unfazed, simply honing in on the fact that he had to make sure your wounds were taken care of. 

The mound of salt pooled in his palm, and as he shuffled closer for a better angle, his hand moulded once more to your open back, his free hand sliding around your front to hold you in place. 

The sheer closeness of the interaction had you sweating, and not just from the shooting pain at the salt feeling like it was kissing raw nerves. His gentle hand splayed across your stomach, thumb tracing the ridges of your ribs as his chin rested on an unmarked shoulder. 

You were biting your lip so hard you swore iron was tingeing your tongue, but air somehow found your lungs at the velvety sound of Eddie’s voice hushing you once more. 

‘Easy… good girl.’

Eddie could physically feel your heart hammering against his fingertips, a guilty shame swallowing him as he realised just how much pain you must be in - to feel so much to the point of numbness, completely unaware your back had been sliced up. 

Soon, the pressure against your back let up, the salt sticking to the moist skin as Eddie’s weight pulled back, his touch disappearing. 

‘Thank you,’ you panted out, eyes shut as you allowed yourself to breathe deeply, but Eddie’s hand remained splayed against your front, as if he needed the contact to confirm you were okay, that your heart was still beating and you weren’t lying to him. 

‘Anytime,’ he sighed, as if his heavy tongue had more he wished to say but his restraint was too high. 

‘That’s the last time I help you in a fight,’ you chuckled with what little energy you had left, earning an equally dry huff of laughter at your shoulder. 

‘You don’t mean that,’ he pressed his lips to your bare shoulder, a furious blush ravaging your body that thankfully the dingy candlelight swaddled much too effectively. 

‘I don’t mean that,’ you echoed back, voice waning as exhaustion finally took over your eyes, a warmth filling your chest as you leant back into Eddie’s fond hold. 

~ ~ ~ 

The sunny breeze kissed your face as you rested your elbows atop the palace walls. The glittering sea twinkled with the sunlight, and the rich blue of the cloudless sky presented a wonderfully warm day. 

The Queen was tied up in a meeting with her tailor, a new gown requiring measurements for an upcoming ball, and at the stifling heat from the entirely glass room, you were allowed to wait outside on the nearby porch that overlooked the canyon housing the bay. 

You’d gotten quite good at weaselling your way out of simply hanging around as the Queen held her daily appointments. She rarely insisted on your presence, only doing so if she knew she might benefit from having your blunt, emotionless presence looming in the corner for whatever unfortunate visitor she was having to entertain. 

Most of the time you were able to nip out for ‘air’, or a ‘perimeter check’. You would almost always find your way to a ledge or perch that provided a clear vision of the horizon. 

‘Do you miss it?’ Steve’s voice was swift to slice the silence you’d allowed yourself to wallow in. Your eyes scrunched shut at the interruption before you plastered on the fakest smile you could muster, shooting him a casual glare before returning your focus to the sea. 

The Prince’s approach was not nearly as arrogant as when you’d last spoken; his hand leaning on your door for company, his eyes deeply holding yours as he silently begged for you to allow him passage through the blocked threshold. 

This time he looked impossibly sheepish, more reserved, his hands in the pockets of his crease free slacks, as his well-stitched shirt remained fully buttoned up. His body felt too close as he sidled up beside you, despite remaining a respectful step away. 

‘Of course I miss it,’ you finally answered, tone clipped as you refused to offer him another look. You registered his scuffle of movement in the gravel below, his shoes likely digging into the dirt to diffuse the obvious tension between you. ‘It’s the only place I’ve ever felt free.’

You cursed your tongue for wagging of its own accord, the whispered statement clearly pricking Steve’s ears to attention as you felt his stare burn a hole into the side of your face. 

You regretted saying the words even more when he responded back with his usual unwary tone. 

‘Well you’re lucky that my parents offered you a job instead of the stocks-‘

‘Employment isn’t the same as freedom.’

The finality in your voice stopped him, as he himself was suddenly aware of how truly out of character his last sentence was. It was as if the royal blood in his veins spoke freely for him, as if everything his family had offered you was some gift. But he could see just how much it affected you, and he hated that those words left his mouth. 

A small apology was swallowed from his lips as he instead decided to change the subject away from the royalties of his title and family. 

‘You’re spending a lot of time on ledges,’ he pointed out, peering over the edge before recoiling back. ‘I hope you’re not having any thoughts about jumping.’

It was meant as a joke, but it fell flat when your lips refused to curl with a responsive smile. 

‘The only place I will allow myself to die will be at sea,’ you mumbled a little coldly, no hint of discernment or confusion in your voice. You were certain. ‘It’s the only place for a pirate. Our dead drink the sea.’

Why were you still talking?

‘Were you born on the sea then?’ Steve looked at you inquisitively, resting on a bent elbow as he turned his full attention your way, as if you opening up as such allowed him the chance to open himself also. 

‘The sea raised me,’ you offered with a dipped chin. It wasn’t a lie, you can’t recall any part of yourself that could have survived had you stayed with your family and grew up a royal. It didn’t help with the familiar sting in your gut as you recalled that that was exactly where you had ended up - in a fucking palace. 

‘Well that’s quite enough of you digging into my past I should think,’ you straightened, finally turning you head to him with a strong hold. 

‘Is there a reason you came over here, or were you also thinking of jumping?’

He barked out a hearty laugh, the noise startling you for a breath before he settled back down, lips dragging downwards as he tried to sober himself. 

‘I … I actually came over to apologise.’

The words stunned you, your silence highlighting as much before he continued. 

‘For last night-‘

The scratching yank of your dagger along the stone wall paused his tongue, his eyes dragging along the sharp tool you’d purposefully brought into view to shut him up. 

You understood the connotations of nosy ears listening in on a conversation of this nature, and the last thing you needed to creep out was the foul lie that the Prince had found a new nightly visitor - the Queens new lady, how scandalous. 

Steve’s eyes finally flicked up to yours, immediately interpreting your mannerisms as intended. 

‘I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,’ the lilt of his voice had dropped to a hushed whisper, ‘it was not my intention, and I would hate for you to think of me so lowly.’

Your eyes narrowed on the Prince, trying to gauge how honest his words were, but when there was no malice in his eyes or jeer in his lips, you simply nodded. 

‘Fine,’ was all you said, hurriedly hiking up the layers of dress to slot your dagger back into place. 

If Steve wasn’t so flushed at the sight of your bare calf, he might have registered that your weapon had been unsheathed this entire time, being so taken by your face that he hadn’t seen the glowing knife at your hip. 

‘Was that all?’

His cheeks were burning, his fingers adeptly swiping some floppy hair from his eyes as he tried to ooze confidence. 

He’d seen skin before, much more than half a leg in fact and somehow, just a glimpse of yours had him reeling. 

‘Y-yes,’ he managed through dry lips as he straightened up once more. 

‘Alright then,’ you replied curtly, turning unfazed as you walked towards the open doors jutting out into the gravelled courtyard. 

It wasn’t the last time that Steve caught you hanging around the edges of the palace, blissfully unaware as he noted your content expression with every view of the ocean. 

He did make it blazingly obvious however, how determined he was to see you at every opportunity. He’d slyly slip into Queen meetings, standing at the back with a pleasant nod of acknowledgement to his mother before his focus returned to you. 

He found ways to stumble upon the maids rooms, undoubtedly falling into the unwelcome attention of Constance who was swift to fawn on him, missing the looks of odd understanding that Bridget suspected as she glanced between the both of you. 

It became obnoxiously apparent when the Queen started to make comments. 

‘Steve, darling,’ she would call out in a voice of surprise, ‘is anything the matter?’

He’d shake his head and walk closer to the cluster of sofas you were all occupying, approaching the one that held your stiff back as he deceptively leant against the upholstered piece of furniture. 

‘No,’ he said with a smile, the Queen grinning back at her son. ‘Just checking in.’

‘With anyone in particular?’ She enquired with a cheeky knowing look, your eyes avidly downcast as you avoided all attention. The other ladies had earnestly turned at his arrival, but your rigid unmoving form simply highlighted your animosity to the Prince. 

‘Just you, Mother,’ he said, circling the sofas to plant a chaste kiss to her cheek, before slouching into a nearby armchair as if that was the most appropriate place for a nap. 

Steve’s eyes would dodge all of Constance’s looks, soften at Fanny’s questions, bridle with Bridget’s jokes, lighten with his Mothers love, and sink with the smirks you’d ignore. 

And that was how you spent most of your days, batting off the creeping affection of a forlorn Prince who simply wanted to get to know a story you were unwilling to expose. 

Your nights however were occasionally occupied by a different mop of immaculate hair, Eddie clambering onto your balcony with a boyish grin at every chance he had. The moonlight would douse you both in an indigo white light as you’d cast your eyes out to the sea, mumbling about the day as you discussed how little information you’d acquired.

‘Didn’t see any new ships today,’ you’d mutter.

‘There was talk of a new trader, but I didn’t get a name,’ Eddie would respond, ‘I’ll find out more and’ll let you know.’

The evening would continue on regardless, the both of you simply bathing in each others company with every chance you could grasp, the midnight chill of the balcony stone seeping through the backs of your garments as you gazed up at the stars.

That was the routine; spend the day watching, spend the night waiting, and hope that soon Eddie would slip onto your balcony with some news.

Most nights Eddie could not find himself scrambling up the vines, your new lives soon taking the brunt of your exhaustion, but he would never leave it longer than a week, your nearly nightly catch ups reminiscent of the fact that you’d barely spent a moment apart the entire decade you’d served as a pirate.

Moons passed, and the clockwork routine continued, the lack of information but rushed comfort you would feel from each others presence now the only thing pushing you both forward.

Until that too started to dwindle. 

~ ~ ~

First it was a week. Then a tenday. By two sennights you’d grown concerned.

And yet still no Eddie.

The Prince had of course noticed the agitation that rumbled your bones with every waking moment, and even though he wasn’t certain of the cause for it, he was adamant to help with plentiful distraction.

It was now thick into the heat of summer, the spring breeze swept away as the boiling blaze of the sun hammered down from the first moment of the day. 

The days meetings revolved around a constant siesta for the Queen, the heat sending her into a calm leisure that withdrew her inside for numerous rests. It was during those hours you would slink away and peer out from the closest viewpoint, the lapping waves tempting you to run down the hill, through the hundreds of hedges and townspeople, swim out to sea, never to be heard from again…

That would never be the case though. You were one of the Queen’s ladies in waiting, never to leave the palace without her permission. The request had been voiced, even if to just dip your toes in a shallow rock pool, and an escort was offered, but the mask of forged freedom sat ill with you, and so for the roaring summer you spent it along the palace walls. 

A routine that the Prince soon noticed. 

‘Your mother’s asleep Steve,’ you called out in a bored tone, the scuffled halt of his clicking heels against the tiled floor echoing down the passageway you’d acquired. 

The afternoon had sequestered you away along one of the covered terraces bordering a large hall. The columns stood as tall and proud as a palm tree, individually separated by a length of wide flat stone that could pass as either a low wall or a high bench. 

The white stone had been warmed by the morning light, and as you lay down flat, head tilted towards the ocean, it became apparently clear that this was rather comfortable.

‘What if I wasn’t coming to see my Mother?’ He responded, the paced tap of his footsteps resuming once more as he moved closer. 

It wasn’t the first time that you’d called him Steve. He wasn’t sure if it was an accident, or if you truly were just finding his company more pleasant. He knew not to point it out though, knowing it’d likely scare you back into the unfriendly box you’d first arrived in, but he loved the way you said it. 

Steve. Even in the uninterested, dulcet tone you used to say it, he adored it. 

‘Well I’m sure she would be sorely disappointed to hear that.’

‘I doubt it.’

Your skirts ruffled with the weight of your movement, billowing around your knees as you sat up, offering Steve your concerned attention. 

‘Was anything the matter?’ You asked, eyes carefully watching him as you tried to deduce his motives. 

It was only a subtle difference in how you spoke to him, changing from a ‘what do you want?’ to an ‘are you okay?’. Your face still seemed indifferent with every interaction you approached, but the softening of your words did not go unnoticed by the eager Prince. 

‘No,’ he shook his head, shifting his weight once more as if he were internally debating joining you on the sunny stone slab, or to continue pacing the vast, vacant porch. ‘Not particularly.’

Your eyes remained on him, observing the way his leg swung about him, his tough slippers scuffing the floor as if there were an irritating pebble in the way. 

He was bored. 

‘Well in that case,’ you sighed, slowly lowering yourself back down onto the slab. 

‘So are you sword trained?’

‘Excuse me?’ You straightened back up, leaning on your hands perched firmly behind your back. 

‘Your dagger, I mean,’ Steve rambled, ‘you carry it everywhere-‘ he gestured vaguely to your bulging skirts, ‘so it would be reasonable to assume you are trained in swords.’

Your legs crossed over themselves, hidden by the silky layers of your dress as you adjusted yourself to lean forward. ‘That would be telling.’

Were you … baiting him? 

‘I mean, if you’re not willing to divulge that much about yourself, I suppose we could settle it simply,’ the Prince pushed, biting back just as fair. 

‘And what would you suggest?’

‘A duel,’ he smirked.

A wry smile unfurled on your lips. ‘Why would I accept that?’

‘I mean, if you’re worried you might hurt yourself-‘

This was easily the most stimulating conversation you’d had in weeks. Bait aside, you couldn’t wait to belittle the Prince down a peg, and you were on your feet in an instant. 

Steve’s lips spread into a knowing grin, his smirk disappearing into genuine glee as he realised you were going to entertain him. Maybe you were just as bored as he was. He hoped so. 

‘It is not myself I worry about getting hurt,’ you spoke, straightening your skirts as you readied yourself opposite him in the cooling shade. 

You’d intended for it to sound as if no one could hurt you. What Steve heard however, was entirely different. 

‘Oh,’ he tutted, lips pointing into an exaggerated pout, ‘that’s sweet you don’t want to see me hurt.’ 

You scoffed, suddenly realising your mistake. Instead of entertaining it further though, you tilted your chin up, deciding to point out the obvious. 

‘Don’t we need swords for a duel?’

His smile faltered for a moment as he realised that you weren’t playing along anymore, but his hair rolled around his ears as he whipped his head, marching over to a nearby statue coated in iron chainmail. The large sword held by the metal glove rattled in his grip before he wandered along to the next one a few columns down. 

On the second try the handle loosened, coming away from the clinking fingers of the steeled figure with a harsh tug as Steve stepped back triumphantly. He turned on his heel, eyeing up the next centre piece in a close alcove, and with another expert wiggle, was able to loosen another handle away from its display. The smaller, thinner blade now danced in his hold as he stepped back from the mahogany placement it original resided within, and he started towards you.

He held up both his hands, presenting the two swords; the hefty broadsword or the nimble stinging blade. ‘Ladies choice.’

You nodded your head towards the thinner blade, almost matching in length to the one Steve now wielded but clearly lighter from the smaller rim on the edge, before he expertly threw it your way, your grip swinging back from the momentum as you felt it in your hold.

‘Good choice,’ he commented, eyeing up his weapon now, ‘you know this one might have been too big for you.’

He was so caught up in catching his warped reflection on the blade that he hadn’t noticed you storming forward, your rapier dashing his blade down as he jumped back. 

‘The size of an object holds no significance unless you know how to use it,’ you teased, a smirk dusting your lips as Steve swallowed at the innuendo. He yet again struggled to respond before you were suddenly lunging at him, the clashing of swords singing down the corridor as you parried against one another.

The doused sun chased your moving bodies as you danced along the polished floor, darting against one another as metal slashed against metal. It didn’t take long for the hefty heel of Steve’s sword to clatter from his fingers, skidding along the floor after you’d pummelled it from his grip.

‘See?’ You smirked.

His eyes widened as your grin spread, the glee from beating him too large to bury back down. He glowed from the look, leaning for the sword once more before straightening in an exaggerated manner.

‘Alright alright,’ he conceded, taking a cautious step closer. ‘So perhaps you’ve had some practice.’

His foot lunged forward then, hoping his honeyed words would have distracted you enough to gain the minor upper hand. Your keen eye however clocked it as soon as he shifted his weight, dodging the clumsy reach he made before spinning once more, dusting him away with effortless strength.

‘Perhaps.’

His sword swung outwards, his torso left unprotected as the prick of your blade hovered between his ribcage.

‘Have you?’ You asked now, clearly questioning his ability after his second defeat.

He scoffed, ignoring the way his chest burned. ‘Of course I have. My father’s the King-‘

Your blade sliced the air, jabbing forward in interruption as you thwacked his sword once more.

‘-my fathers the King,’ you mimicked, blow after blow raining on his hold before he finally regained himself and pushed forward.

Steve had trained with swords before, many times. As a Prince, other than politics, knowing how to wield a weapon was one of the most important things he had to know. The bay would require leadership after his father’s passing, and while he knew it not to be for years still, it had been ingrained in him since he was a young boy that that was his duty.

Protect the kingdom, protect the people, and protect the crown.

His sword master had always faulted his footwork, his weight too heavy on his leading toes. The advice rang blazingly loud in his mind as you practically twirled around him as if you were floating on air. 

The speed and finesse at which you handled the blade, darting and dashing around him without even cutting through the air with a whisper was outstanding. You were easily the most sophisticated pirate he’d ever known. 

Countless times you batted away his sword, dodging his attempts before tapping him with the tip of your own, a boastful giggle rushing from you with every success.

The heat of the afternoon sun had sunk lower now, skimming across the glowing path and illuminating the sheer sweat and excitement you were both exerting from the activity. You noticed Steve’s throws growing sloppy, the weight of the metal now matching the beating heat. 

From the clamminess of your palm your hold loosened, the following knock from Steve rattling the sabre from your grasp as his face lit up in elation. Before he had a chance to celebrate you stole the opportunity, sliding along the glistening floor on your knees before knocking him to the ground with an outstretched foot, watching as he fell with an ungrateful thump.

With a flourish of spins, you’d twirled yourself on top of him, the dagger from your thigh holster now pinned to his neck as his tongue fattened in his mouth. He’d been so breathless from sparring with you, let alone from collapsing to the floor, that there was no way he could have anticipated your signature dagger move.

You hovered above his face, a gloating look taking over your face as you eyed him pointedly. The both of you were panting so heavily from the exercise, that you could almost taste his unspoken thoughts from how his breath danced across your chin. 

‘I’m sure the Queen will be pleased to hear that I prevented a murder today,’ you said after you found your voice, tampering down the heat that ebbed onto your tongue as you tried to disregard how nicely Steve fitted between your straddled thighs.

‘Wh- how?’ He finally said, his eyes creasing with a confused smile.

‘Self control,’ you smirked, teasingly pressing the blade of your dagger harder into the slope of his neck, his eyes darkening as you sunk your weight further on top of him.

He chuckled, a deep rumble that echoed underneath you before his unoccupied hands latched onto your waist and flipped you over. The cold of the floor tiles suddenly seeped along your spine, your chest heaving slightly as Steve managed to manoeuvre your own dagger out of your hold to pinprick your chest, grazing along an exposed collarbone as his face lit up.

‘Perhaps you’re not a total lost cause then.’ It was the kindest statement Steve could receive from you, your usual non-emotive face cracking under the weight of his hips and stare as he continued to pin you.

‘Was that almost a compliment?’ Steve pushed, his hair drooping from its hold as he hovered above you. A coil had started to twist in your belly from the delicious pressure between your legs, dagger be damned if it was digging into your skin.

‘With a little more practice, perhaps you’ll be fine,’ you swallowed thickly, hoping the hammering of your heart wasn’t shaking the blade that rested above it. A warm, sticky feeling started to course itself up and down your body, and to your dismay you realised your gaze had been transfixed on Steve’s parted lips dangling above you, your thoughts brimming with how they would feel against yours-

‘Practice, hm?’ He hummed, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes. If he had noticed your mistake, he was too occupied to mention it.

You nodded meekly, completely enveloped in the new thoughts that seemed to battle their way to the front of your mind. You hadn’t anticipated that Eddies absence would make it so easy for the Prince to slip into the missing piece.

What was wrong with you?

‘Indeed.’

If it wasn’t for the stifled gasp that sounded from the corner, you weren’t entirely certain how long you both would have entertained the position. Your head tilted back, matching the speed at which Steve clambered off of your sprawled body, a rather rattled Bridget stepping hesitantly closer as you rushed to your feet.

The poor girl cleared her throat for a moment, Steve taking the pause to push your dagger back into your hold as you stood side by side. Wordlessly you grasped it, refusing to lift your eyes back to his and instead focusing on Bridget.

‘The Queen’s awake,’ she blushed, fighting a knowing smirk on her face as you dropped your head to peer around a column. The sun had traversed such a large portion of the sky, you were quite shocked at how much time you had willingly spent with the Prince. Even if it ended with you holding knives to each others throats.

‘Right!’ You announced mostly to yourself, stepping towards the giddy girl as you declined to offer a final look to the Prince behind you, turning the corner without even a second glance. 

~ ~ ~

A full moon passed before you next saw Eddie. He was idling on the outskirts of a lower garden when you stumbled upon him. His scruffy clothes made him stand out like a withered flower, the lush greens and pinks surrounding him a stark contrast to the beiges and browns his slacks offered. 

The wooden handle of the parasol wavered in your hold, your impatient fingers twirling the shade as you meandered along the gardens, again. 

The Queen was ahead, Fanny politely holding the shade between the two of them as Bridget and Constance copied a step behind. You slung back, your own parasol resting on your shoulder as you tried to make a game up in your head. 

How many flowers can I see?

If that colour was called something else, what would it be?

How far can I kick this pebble?

The entire situation was draining to say the least, and while you weren’t too adept in handling the parasol often, the tightness of your corset and beating sun begged for the respite of shade. 

Ahead, the path began to wind through a patch of roses, and as if you could foresee the excitement the Queen would fill with to explain the new types, you took the opportunity to slip under the large willow tree, feigning an issue with the lace of your slipper. 

It was as your eyes passed over the extensive maze of a garden you’d spent the best part of your morning in, that you finally noticed the hunched figure of a familiar back in a tucked corner. 

Eddie’s hands were rummaging around some charming looking herbs, his wild curls shading his face as you took the chance to stride towards him. 

Thankfully the Queens entourage were just out view as you collapsed the parasol and proceeded to thwack the curved back of Eddie bent over. 

He yelped in pain, straightening immediately with a grubby look on his face, and equally grubby fingers as he pointed them at his assailant. 

‘OW! What the-‘ the anger in his face dulling a second too late as he registered who you were. 

‘Where have you been?’ You spat, no formal niceties available in your tone as you glared at him. Your back was to the rose garden, the swishing of the willows branches sheltering you both. 

The slip of your name tumbled from his lips; his gravelly voice a mix of exhaustion and agitation. The scuffed shoes of his made to step forward before your pointed parasol was raised to keep the distance, as if it were a sword. 

The image would have looked rather comical; a maiden in a fancy dress pretending to be a pirate with a flimsy brolly as her weapon of choice. But Eddie knew your limits, how quick you were to anger, and he silently bit his tongue as he watched the fury bubble to your cheeks and neck. 

‘Why haven’t you come to visit?’ You stressed, unsure how to read the blend of emotions crossing Eddie’s face, as if he was suddenly grappling with the framework of your plan. ‘It’s been a month, Eddie, and I hear nothing from you-‘

‘How come I’m the one that has to come to you,’ he interrupted, the indignation fuelling his spine as he straightened further in front of you, ‘huh?’

‘Because I’m in the palace Eddie,’ you explained in a heavy sigh, as if it were obvious. ‘It’s very difficult for me to get away okay? You’re just a stable hand, nobody’s watching you.’

‘Just a stable hand,’ he was quick to mutter under his breath, a soured scoff escaping him. ‘…course.’

You watched as the corner of his lips tilted downwards, the darkening of his eyes as he stared harshly at you. 

‘Ed, you know that’s not what I meant-‘ you tried, almost pleading as you stepped closer to him, your anger lessening for a short breath. 

‘Sure!’ He spat, his ill temper blooming now as if you’d stroked the wrong trigger by bringing up his status, something that hadn’t been brought into conversation for years. 

‘I’m just a poor little stable boy that nobody cares for.’

The slap you thrust upon his cheek stung the air, the wet smack of sweaty fingers on damp cheeks cutting through the breezy quiet. 

‘I care for you Eddie,’ you defended, ignoring how your palm started to throb, ‘now cut it out.’

He sobered slightly now, eyes widening as he took you in. The stench of the neighbouring flowers felt suffocating now, the floral inferno that clogged your nose could have been easily mistaken for a perfume brewery, but you continued at his speechlessness 

‘I have to be in the palace Eddie. I have to be at the viewpoint, and you’re to be down there collecting information,’ you panted, emphasising each point with a firm jab to his chest with your free finger. ‘So what have you found out?’

‘Not much,’ he sniffed, bringing himself back to the conversation with a messy shake of his head. 

You hummed in response, a sort of grunt-like sound of disapproval catching in your throat, but it wasn’t completely necessary. 

You’d been here almost a full season now, and no new information was becoming regrettably predictable. 

Instead of fixating on the chagrin of the situation, you glanced at his hands and the scruffily stuffed burlap sack of leaves he’d filled. 

‘Why are you in the gardens anyway?’ You asked, hoping the change of topic would diffuse the hovering nerves between you both. 

Eddie provided a lopsided smile at the question, darting his eyes to the beds at your feet before rustling the bag in his hold. 

‘Boss needed some woad leaves for the Kings army banners.’

‘I see.’

It was at the Queens’ elated squeal that you were finally able to tear your eyes off of the Eddie in front of you. He looked tired, and he could see the same in your own features. With a polite dip of your head, and a smiling ‘I’ll see you soon okay?’, you turned on your heel to rejoin the girls, hopeful that nobody had truly noticed your absence. 

You were woefully mistaken however, as at the simple brush of the willows leaves parting for you, all four faces whipped your way. 

‘Who was that?’ The Queen peered round your shoulder, and you couldn’t determine if her questioning was from curiosity or unease. 

The kind smile you briefly gave her as you neared fooled the group with a sense of false serenity. ‘Just eliminating a threat Ma’am.’

The girls couldn’t ascertain whether your statement was as a joke, or whether the shabby man digging about in the soil was actually a real threat. The Queen was undeterred, fascinating over your words as if you were a rare jokester.

‘Eliminating a threat,’ she chuckled to herself, the assemble soon turning to follow her trail as the tour of the gardens continued. ‘Gods… brilliant.’

Chapter Text

‘What are you doing up here?’

Eddie’s voice was almost carried away with the breeze, the only tell tale sign of his presence being the rocking of the ropes that hung around you as he steadied himself towards you, dancing in your peripheral vision.

The sun was just about to kiss the horizon where the sea reached the sky, and you struggled to drag your eyes from the sight. The evening warmth was settling deep into your bones as you sat poised amongst the sails, your almost perfect posture somewhat telling of someone who had to withstand an entire childhood of etiquette training, despite the dangling limbs hanging from the posts.

‘Just watching,’ you sighed, resting your head on an arm hooked around a taut rope nearby. The boom wobbled as Eddie lowered his weight, shuffling along the post to near you before you finally offered him a kind smile. ‘What are you doing up here?’

‘Not gonna let you steal the best seat on the ship all on your own,’ he was quick to say, exhaling loudly as he made himself comfortable. 

‘There’s plenty of space down there,’ you responded, voice light with no real scorn to it. 

‘Yeah but you see the sunset last from all the way up here,’ Eddie added. ‘See it for longer.’

‘Get to see you for longer,’ he thought. 

‘Well I’m glad someone else enjoys the view,’ your eyes now trained back on the horizon. ‘I swear Pete thinks I’m lying about the flash-‘

‘It’s just unusual sweetheart,’ Eddie cooed, carefully interrupting you as he watched how your lips tightened for a moment. 

‘I know everyone thinks it’s just a children’s story,’ you sighed, inhaling sharply as the memory of your mother reading for you as you were swaddled in your bed sheets washed through you, ‘but it’s just nice to think about.’

Eddie sat in silence with you as the sun started to dip further into the water, the golden orb rippling against its watery blanket. 

‘Do you believe in it?’ Your voice almost shook, head fixed straight as Eddie now watched you instead of the sunset. 

‘What, that the green flash means a- a soul has returned from the dead?’ He tried to keep his voice level. Having to raise it to beat against the gales gave it a harsher tone than he intended, but it didn’t phase you. Your head bobbed expectantly, a soft smile dancing along your lips as you encouraged him silently. 

‘S’pose so,’ he conceded, ‘like you said. It’s nice to think about.’

In truth, it was nice to think about. That a soul could be returned to this mortal coil if removed too soon.

His childhood had always been in comparison drastically different from your own, darker stories shared by the candlelight instead, but it never stopped him from listening to you regale the ones you knew. 

Eddie never grew up in the Palace, but he grew up with you, and that was essentially the same. 

‘Indeed,’ you hummed, excitedly watching with unblinking eyes as the crest of the sun finally sank beneath the waves, orange and yellow all that could be seen. 

‘No flash,’ he muttered as you visibly slumped, trying to swiftly turn on what little wood of the post remained beneath your bum. 

‘No flash,’ you sighed, finally facing him with swinging legs and a resigned smile. 

‘Pete must think I’m mad for climbing up here every clear evening,’ you giggled, Eddie chuckling back instantly. 

‘Pete’s the one who’s mad!’

‘Sssh!’ You hushed, looking down at the mingling deck of crew that huddled below your dangling feet. ‘He might hear you.’

‘Pete can’t hear a damn thing after that canon went off last, remember?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Captain was looking for you by the way,’ Eddie finished, pulling himself to his feet as the ropes wobbled around with his grip. ‘Said something about those charts we last plotted,’ he waved his free hand in the air to gesture the unclear instructions, ‘them not being clear enough or … or something about bad waters.’

‘Oh well that sounds specific,’ you smirked at him, wriggling along the post to follow him down the knotted rigging you’d scaled earlier. 

~ ~ ~

‘What are you doing down here?’

Eddie’s voice was quiet, guarded, with a hint of shock as he took in the vision of you standing at the entrance of the barn. 

The sun had dipped just below the mountain line so the evening sky was dusted in a veil of rose clouds. The trek down the hill had been pleasant in the sense of the solitude, and while you dreaded the journey back, you knew it would be worth it to see Eddie.

After your last conversation, the sight of him within touching distance had quelled something within you, the original rage simmering to an annoyance as you realised that he was probably just settling into a new life. 

The path down the hill had been particularly treacherous as your hands remained glued to the extravagant skirts that slunk around your legs, and as you now stood in front of Eddie, you completely forgot how ridiculous you had felt walking down.

‘I came to see you,’ you answered honestly, your fingers gripping again the silky material of your dress as you hoisted it up slightly to step closer. The chucked up dust from the road had already clung to the edges of your dress, no matter how unfazed you seemed by it. The rest of it however seemed pristine, the dark navy jewels grazing your neckline along your satin bodice all flickered in the fire light. 

‘Is that so?’ Eddie’s eyes hadn’t left you yet, barely blinking as you neared him. His expression was difficult to read, and you might have misunderstood his questioning for annoyance, if it weren’t for the tiny corner of his lips tugging upwards in a repressed smirk.

‘I’m sorry,’ your voice unwavering as you continued to hold his stare, equally repressing your own growing smile. ‘You were right. It’s unfair to expect you to keep coming to the palace.’

Eddie blinked. It was rare to hear an apology from your lips, and it wasn’t always due to your stubbornness - most of the time, you were right. But he could see how the words had been weighing on you, the way your shoulders looked almost lighter at the admission and it was like he’d forgotten his train of thought. 

‘How were you able to get away?’ He asked instead, trying not to focus on how his eyes wished to sweep along your exposed collarbones.

‘There’s a ball happening tonight,’ you mumbled casually, ‘they’re all very busy with that.’

Eddie smirked, eyeing you knowingly. ‘Are you going?’

‘Unfortunately so,’ you sighed with a roll of your eyes.

At the admission Eddie stepped back, hands gingerly gripping your forearms as he properly took in the sight of you.

‘So this is your ballgown?’ He suddenly became very aware of how dirty your surroundings were, coaxing you under the shelter so you weren’t surrounded by the drying mud of the day. 

‘Yes,’ you said tightly, the heat of the nearby fireplace rouging your cheeks, and certainly not from the way Eddies eyes perhaps darkened at your proximity.

‘Well hello frills,’ he teased instead, his tongue poking out between his teeth as your face screwed up in irritation,

‘Stop it Ed,’ you smacked him, his chuckles dying only momentarily at the impact.

‘Frills suit you darling,’ he continued, unfazed as he started to pick and pull at parts of your dress as he inspected closer.

‘Eddie please, this is everything I left behind’ you groaned now, the little whimper in your throat catching his attention as he straightened up for you.

‘What if someone sees me?’ You added more as an afterthought.

Eddie hadn’t even thought about the possibility of you being recognised. In truth, the dresses he’d seen you wear as a lady in waiting were magnificent enough that the idea never crossed his mind. But as you stood in front of him now, dressed in the finest silks and jewels, you looked identical to a royal, almost ethereal in the candlelight.

‘All they’ll be seeing right now, is a lost girl who’s been around pirates for too long,’ Eddie eased, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to comfort you. ‘No one’s bright enough to put two and two together, and notice that you’re the missing Princess.’

You dipped your head, breathing in the relief of his words. Eddie always knew the right thing to say.

‘Thanks Ed,’ you whispered, looking up at him now through your lashes as your heart hammered in your chest. ‘I’ll try and visit you more, promise.’

‘I’d like that sweetheart.’ A genuine smile curled his cheeks, his eyes twinkling as they creased, a warmth brewing in him at having you close, and near, in his arms again as he pulled you into a soft hug. 

~ ~ ~

The grand hall practically glittered with candle light. The deep, rouge curtains draped luxuriously around the ceiling high windows, and each frame was punctuated by alternating braziers or a palm plant. The floor mirrored the glowing ceiling of candles, the dimming sun scattering the last of its rays against the polished tiles.

A band was situated at the far end of the hall, playing beautiful music that sang itself around the room, and the outskirts held an array of clothed tables and plush chairs. At the other end sat the King and Queen, their backs slumped merrily into the velvet supports of their theatrical thrones, their smiles of glee encouraging all those around them to indulge further in the feasts and wines. 

A mirage of bodies stepped to and fro in the centre of the room, extravagantly decorated couples twirling amongst each others arms as the music lifted their spirits and their heels.

You had never been to an affair as grand as this; It was truly a sight to behold.

Internally you wondered whether this was what your parents had been preparing you for. You had always been too young for the balls when you were a little girl, most often shown about right at the beginning of the soirée, and then as the food and drinks arrived you were sent to your room, Eddie usually waiting on the balcony to compliment your dress then steal some of the pie you’d been left. 

But now you were old enough to partake in the evening, and it stole your breath.

Sensibly you stayed glued to the edges of the room, the Queen remaining in your eye line as you quietly nursed a goblet of wine, occasionally sipping from the large rimmed glass.

‘It’s really something isn’t it?’ Fanny breathed, silently sidling up to you as you offered her a kind look. 

In this light, in this haze, you could almost see yourself in her a little - had you remained in your childhood castle and grew up how you were trained to. Prim and proper, all covered in fashionable silks and pretty lace. You were quick to hold your tongue though, surveying the room with her instead as Fanny’s eyes glossed over slightly.

‘Have you been to many of these?’ You asked, her lips quirking up at the corner as she watched a nearby couple complete a flourishing spin.

‘A few,’ she nodded, absent-mindedly bringing her own wine to her lips, the soft skin now slightly tinged pink from the drink. ‘The best ones are always with the sun.’

‘Is that so?’ You humoured her, the young girls eyes sparkling at you as she realised you were entertaining her conversation - a very rare occurrence indeed in the few months she’d known you.

‘Mhmm,’ she hummed excitedly, ‘what about you?’ She asked without much thought, quickly correcting herself with a shake of her head as she registered what she’d just said.

‘I mean- did you have any… any balls or dances you attended?’

You took a leisurely drag of your drink now, clearly the evening to be as mild as this conversation. ‘It is rather difficult for a pirate to be invited to an event as grand as this… but that doesn’t mean we can’t dance.’

She giggled at your smirk now, and your chest twinged in the strange sense of protectiveness that came over; one you anticipated you’d feel to someone akin to a younger sister.

‘Did you dance a lot on the- the ship?’ Fanny hiccuped slightly.

You nodded slowly. ‘Occasionally. But we mostly drank.’

The last dregs of your wine soon slipped past your parted lips with an exaggerated gulp, Fanny now beaming further at you as the goblet made its way to a nearby surface.

‘Are you to dance this evening?’ She asked, words unable to leave you quick enough as suddenly a young charming man walked gingerly up to Fanny.

‘Would you like to dance?’ He gestured to the floor behind, a new song picking up with a joyful beat as she eagerly nodded, completely forgetting the conversation she was having with you a moment ago, like a young child would once a newer toy came along.

You chuckled as she was whisked away into the movement of the room, a sly wink shot to her as she finally glanced back.

‘The question of the evening,’ Bridget mumbled into her own glass, eyebrows raised slightly as you cast her a look to your side.

‘Hm?’

‘Will you be dancing this evening?’ she repeated, referring to you as the participant of this scenario. It was in that moment that you wished you hadn’t finished your wine so soon.

‘I highly doubt it.’ You truly loved to dance, the way your heart would raise from the kick and spin of a jig, but this ball was slow and paced, and the only thing picking up your heart rate was the wine. 

‘Come now, no need to be coy,’ she sighed. ‘We both know there’s a certain someone who’d love to take you for a spin.’

You swallowed thickly, taking a moment to glance around the room and notice a pair of thin prying eyes staring at you from across the space. Constance had taken to standing by a column with a look you couldn’t quite yet decipher as being either suspicious or jealous. 

‘You know, I don’t think Constance and I are close enough to be dancing in public together just yet,’ you joked monotonously.

Bridget snorted loudly, a few nearby disgruntled men shunning her silently with a dismissive look as she ignored it all, straightening back up to you with an almost scalding manner.

‘That’s not who I meant.’

‘Well what about you?’ You flipped the conversation around, turning now to offer your full attention away from the throng of a dancing sea.

‘What about me?’

‘Is there anybody you intend to dance with this evening?’ You mused.

Bridget’s lips parted, as if ready to make some excuse before a thankful look came over her face as she glanced over your shoulder.

‘Bridget, I believe the Queen is asking for you,’ a collected voice traveled past your ear. Its closeness would have erupted you with goosebumps if your skin hadn’t been so squashed down with silks.

‘Of course my Prince,’ she curtsied, a hidden sly look shot your way as she scurried along, directly to the throne at the end of the watching room.

With a roll of your eyes you turned on your heel, fully expecting the Prince to have a smirk ready and prepped for you. His face however was wide eyed, pink and rosy, as if his own wine had travelled directly to his cheeks. His eyes trailed over your shoulders and down your body, taking in the sight of you in a silk colour that matched his own jacket and sash. 

When his eyes finally met yours, you registered the last time you were both so lost in each others gaze was when he had you pinned to the floor with your dagger, his hips nestled closely between your thighs. 

‘Steve,’ you clipped out tightly, hiding the smothered gasp in your chest with a short clear of your throat. 

‘M’lady,’ he mocked, elegantly reaching for your wrist before gently pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles. His eyes never left yours, and the longing look proved he too was remembering your last engagement. 

‘Navy suits you,’ he commented, the back of his finger caressing the edge of floating frill on your arm as he smiled. 

‘Navy suits you too,’ you prodded his chest, the bluntness of your physical response making a chuckle escape. 

A wave of applause flooded through the room as the song came to an end, the floor spreading clear as it garnered your attention enough to turn away from the Prince. 

He copied, short claps sounding from him before his head dipped your way once more. 

‘Can I have this dance?’ He asked, his hot breath brushing the skin on your neck as a soft, slow song began to play. 

‘Am I allowed?’ You scoffed slightly, never really being one to question permission over forgiveness, the odd sense of duty simmering within. ‘I am working.’ 

You glanced over to the King and Queen, Steve following your line of sight before he decidedly stepped in view, blocking them and offering himself instead. 

‘I think the only thing that’s going to attack my mother tonight is the wine,’ he said pointedly, one eyebrow raised as his hand lifted expectantly. 

A few more couples had taken to the floor, older generations that took the low paced beat at an even more leisurely speed. 

‘So?’ Steve pressed, head dipping to chase your wandering stare before you looked at him with a roll of your eyes. 

‘Fine,’ you sighed, dramatically dropping your hand into his with an ungraceful slap that made him chuckle. 

His feet tugged you away from the sidelines and in to the belly of the dance, the gentle swaying dancers easy to navigate before he spun you into a clear spot. 

A yelp bubbled up your throat, silenced by his large hand circling your back and pressing you against him. Intuitively your held hand raised to the side, a poised arm bent with an angled precision before he started to step. 

It was clear that the Prince had likely had as many dance lessons as you had attended as a child - always a last resort and never a priority. But his strength and stature however compensated surprisingly well for this.

He seemed charming, effortless, and as if his confidence bolstered him enough for the both of you, you didn’t stumble over your toes. You swayed and stepped, calmly and precisely with as much of the memory as you could muster, and as if he could notice the concentration on your face, his grip on your back subconsciously tightened, clutching you closer.

‘You dance awfully well for a pirate,’ he commented, gaze heavy and lazy as it landed on your face. ‘I didn’t think-‘

‘Is there anything that you do know?’ You interrupted with a raised eyebrow and smothered smirk as you took the moment to look upon his face. 

You were able to catch how his smile had broadened for but a fleeting second, before he was suddenly whipping you far out of pace with the music, your lips taut against your teeth as you couldn’t help but grin at the sudden change of speed.

Every movement, every spin, every look was easy with Steve. It was a wonder how the man could manage to make everything so simple, and as he pinned you plush to his front, you felt your feet begin to lighten from the ground, and you momentarily forgot you were surrounded by a kingdoms society and royals. 

Out of turn, off beat and un-royal, you both continued, collapsing into each other as you twirled around the room without a care of whose eyes were glued to you.  

For those few moments of glee, Steve filled your world, and it wasn’t long before the song lilted to its end and a polite applause ruffled the room. 

Parting with a step, you glanced up at the Prince, his flushed cheeks and sweet grin swelling you with something foreign. 

You could have been tempted by another swing around the dance floor, if it weren’t for the subtle scolding you heard across the way as Bridget heavily patted the lower skirts of Constance’s dress. 

‘Mud is so difficult to remove from silk,’ you heard her mutter, Constance’s signature roll of her eyes at any criticism all she could muster as a response. 

For once you were thankful for the heavy slapping of a wet rag Eddie offered just before you left to trek back up the hill. 

Your attention was stolen back by the warmth of a hand slipping familiarly into yours, and as the band started to pluck a fast staccato beat, your exit to a nearby balcony was shrouded by the rushing of bodies to the popular tune. 

The ocean air was always welcome on your face, especially after your cheeks felt as hot as the blazing brazier that crackled further down the stoned wall beside you. The moonlight shattered itself across the sea, glinting in tandem with the starlight that glittered in the inky black of the sky.

You only registered that Steve had dropped the gentle hold on your hand when a rush of cold air graced your palm at the emptiness. As if the lack of contact had your senses firing back up, you turned to the chiselled wall and leant up against it in hopes of calming your nerves, your face, and the fizz in your fingers. 

Since when did the Prince have your chest churning like this?

‘Can I take you somewhere?’ He broke the silence by joining your side, copying the gaze you’d set on the ocean before you both turned to one another. 

Without context, the question seemed so ominous that you initially struggled to deflect it at first, simply summoning a confused shrug as you gathered yourself. 

‘What?’

‘Tomorrow,’ he clarified, shifting his weight as he licked his lips, ‘can we- can I steal you for the day?’

You were taken aback, clearly speechless of the proposition as the Prince’s eyes remained heavy on you. 

‘I … I can’t leave the palace Steve. Not without your mother.’ The tone in your disgruntled voice did not go amiss, and he was quick to boast his idea.

’What if I knew a way to resolve that issue?’ He was hiding a smirk now, arms crossed over his chest as he attempted to casually lean against the stonework.

You wanted nothing more than to be free from the curious stare of the Queen, and to roam outside the marble walls you’d been caged in for too many suns. Just the idea of a slither of freedom had your heart hammering again in excitement. At the same time, you had promised Eddie you would keep a watchful eye on the sea from above, and your chest stuttered at the conflict.

Your lips had parted as you lost yourself in thought, willing for a response to come forward, but Steve could sense your hesitation.

‘My mother will be too hungover for any meetings or company,’ he stated matter of factly, ‘and I’m certain that so will my guards.’

You nodded along, silently encouraging him to continue.

‘It just so happens that tomorrow I may find myself in dire need of the great outdoors, and heavens forbid a royal leaves the Palace unattended.’ His smirk grew, tight along his lips as his plan unravelled. In truth, it was not awful.

Plans that you and Eddie had to undertake through your pirating years had far less substance, and usually ended with little bloodshed. You anticipated that this plan would involve far less fighting.

‘It seems you’ve really thought about this,’ you spoke, small and reserved as you regarded him through your hooded eyes that hung heavy with appreciation. His cheeks burned harder, the subtle compliment rare from your lips, and the intent on following him clear in your eyes.

‘Indeed I have,’ he murmured back, his boastful smirk fading as he awaited your answer, eyebrows furrowing together. ‘So is that a yes?’

‘Perhaps,’ you teased, eyeing up the ballroom once more as the crowd wooed and waved with the cheerful tune on the wind. ‘Guess you’ll just have to be patient, and wait to see if your plan works tomorrow, hm?’

Without waiting for a response you spun on your heel with a click, reentering the room with a confident stride as you brushed back a heavily tasselled curtain that had obscured your private conversation. Steve simply rubbed his face in exasperation, a heated groan quietly escaping him before he rejoined the party, in all its splendour.

Chapter Text

‘The only thing you’ll be fucking tonight, is your fist,’ you grumbled, sneering at the man who had leant against the bar next to you. 

The tavern was rowdy tonight, multiple ships being washed to port as a storm had opened up in the south sea, and the crew were making the most of the situation, scavenging the town for supplies and liquor. Most of the men had wandered back to their docked ships by now, the late hours of the moon illuminating the streets, but you and Eddie had found yourselves lost amongst a loud tavern, a gambling corner soon sucking Eddie in as soon as he caught wind.

You’d situated yourself on the end of the bar, a mug of whatever had been recently opened in hand as you surveyed the room. It did mean however you were alone for pickings, a tall unkempt man swaying over and using the bar for balance before you could deter him. 

‘So would you kindly piss off,’ you finally added, noting the man had not made an attempt to move. ‘Please.’

‘C’mooooon,’ he slurred, breath reeking of fermented apples as his blackening teeth peaked out in his grin. ‘Jus’a lil sum’in righ’?’

The group around the table in the corner where Eddie sat suddenly thumped on the wood, a clammer of shouts as new cards were passed around, and your back straightened as you looked back at the drunkard in front of you.

‘No thank you,’ you snarled.

‘Why d’ja have t’be bitch?’ His face dropping, genuine sadness coming over him before a resolve hardened inside and he stepped forward, a scowl now on his face as he leaned in.

‘I said…’ you mumbled, grabbing his ear before ramming his head into the bar top. A muffled thud cracked on the dash, and his body collapsed to the floor with a heavy heap at your feet. ‘…no thank you!’

You sighed in disgust, the barmaid nearby sliding you another drink as she winked at you, nobody else paying any mind to yet another crumpled drunk on the floor. You nodded at her in thanks, taking a sip before the sound of chair legs screeched along the floor behind you.

The audience around the table were now on their feet, glaring at Eddie who had his back to you, and with a roll of your eyes you were striding over, forgetting your drink as you rested your palm of the heel of your dagger in your hip holster.

‘Thats bullshit!’ Eddie shouted, ‘I didn’t cheat and you know it.’

‘Cards don’t lie mister,’ the man opposite him spat, a gold tooth shining through. 

‘Yeah well your cards are wrong-‘

‘Is everything alright here?’ You asked, sidling up next to Eddie who repressed a sigh as he saw you.

‘Nothing to concern you lil miss,’ another chap to your left grimaced, his only working eye darting between you and Eddie.

‘Their cards are fake,’ Eddie groaned, as you offered him a look.

‘Oh yeah?’ Eddie nodded.

‘Give this man what he’s owed then, and we’ll leave you be,’ you addressed the table, stepping closer so all eyes rested on you, the group easily towering over you by a foot. They erupted in laughter, jesting at you before they finally calmed themselves.

‘And what makes you think we’ll do that?’ The golden tooth man challenged, leaning onto the table with his palms splayed flat as you copied him.

‘Because surely you need two hands to shuffle a deck.’

A hum of silence graced the table as everyone looked at you confused.

‘What?’

Without hesitation you grabbed a nearby dinner knife, launching it across the table as it sank into the top of his hand, pinning his palm to the grubby wood beneath. He cried out in pain, one of his friends instantly turning on you now before they too paused their movements, your dagger from your hip now pricking the column of their neck as you glared at them. 

‘I said,’ you tilted your gaze back to the head of the group, ‘give him what he is owed, and then we will leave.’

The table soon flurried with movement, coins and papers pooling in front of Eddie as he scooped them into a small sack from his pocket. As he stepped back with a curt nod, you released your blade from the man’s neck following suit.

‘G’evening gentleman,’ you said, rushing out of the establishment with Eddie in tow. His legs jingled with every step, and once you were far enough away, you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘The cards are fake,’ you mimicked him with poor effort, Eddie now laughing along with you as he palmed his other pocket. Three cards slipped into his hold, worn with age and use, and he smirked at you as the ship came into view.

‘Yeah well, what they don’t know won’t kill them.’

‘Just be careful it doesn’t kill you,’ you warned with a relaxed sigh, Pete waving at you both as you boarded the deck. 

~ ~ ~

‘I am not in need of a fourth lady today,’ the Queen announced to the dimly lit room. 

You ignored the way your heart turned slightly at the notion of a free day. Even if it was on the pretence that it was to be spent with Steve. You internally hoped that the plan might not prevail, that you would be afforded a day of rest with a view of the ocean. Perhaps you’d have the chance to slip down to Eddie again…

‘The Prince however is wishing to leave the Palace grounds and will be in need of an escort.’

The speed at which Constance straightened at his name was embarrassing, the desperate interest that clung to her face forcing you to swallow a laugh.

‘Ma’am, I would be honoured to-‘ she started, before Bridget was clearing her throat and tilting her head your way.

‘Perhaps the Prince would be in need of protection himself, instead of an escort?’ 

Constance was quick to glare at Bridget across the room, bristled even further by the obvious agreement of the Queen as she turned and smiled. 

‘Yes, quite right. He’s rather dreadful with swords if I must say,’ she muttered aloud, lifting her head to you too.

‘You shall accompany him my dear.’ The order was served with such a pleasant smile, you weren’t sure if this was a form of punishment, or as a reward.

‘Doesn’t the Prince have his own protection?’ You asked calmly, cautious of appearing overly understanding of this information.

‘Usually yes,’ the Queen pouted, ‘although I fear he is out of commission for the day… much like the most of us,’ she mumbled the last part.

‘But what about you Ma’am?’ You asked, your duty first and foremost to the Queen challenging this freedom.

‘Oh I’ll be fine. I plan to sleep most of the day away,’ she chuckled lightly, fingers gently rubbing her forehead as she nursed the echoing bangs of a headache.

‘Besides, if there’s any raiders, Fanny here can prod them with a fire poker.’

You knew it meant to be a joke, a clear lightness to how they actually viewed your role, but something twisted itself tight inside of you, and for a moment you felt even more of an outsider than you normally felt.

The fall of your face was noticed immediately by Bridget. ‘We’ll probably be inside most of today anyway, won’t me Ma’am?’ The Queen nodding silently. ‘You’ll probably prefer the weather outside.’

‘Of course,’ you said tightly, sliding of the window seat without a further look to the watching ladies in the room. 

~ ~ ~

‘I hear the Prince’s guard is out of commission today,’ you stated monotonously from the library doorway, observing how Steve instantly turned at the sound of your voice and graced his face with a growing grin. ‘I wonder how that happened?’

‘Yes, quite awful really,’ he joined in, brows furrowing in mock concern. ‘Some men just don’t know how to hold their drink.’

‘I see,’ you nodded, dipping your head slightly as he neared the doorway you resided in.

‘It seems my mother honoured my request,’ Steve commented, a shy gaze traipsing over your face before he caught your eyes.

‘Your mother actually stated you needed an escort for the day,’ you explained, face twisting in jest in an ill-attempt to break the palpable tension the Prince’s stare held you in. ‘You very nearly had Constance here.’

He internally grimaced, silently thanking any Gods watching that granted you here instead.

‘And yet, here you are.’

‘Here I am.’

There was a beat of silence that allowed you to straighten up, avoiding his eyes as you peered round his shoulder at the desk he’d been situated at before you’d entered. The table seemed full of scrolls and bottles of ink, and you took a step closer into the room to inspect, Steve following closely behind.

‘So where are we heading?’ You asked aloud, focus on the swirls of land markings across the papers laid out before you.

‘It’s a surprise,’ Steve offered, tidying up the table as the charts were removed from view.

‘Nothing to do with this then?’ You gestured to the now rolled up scrolls, clear curiosity coating your face, making Steve smile at the show of inquisitiveness.

‘No, alas,’ he chuckled, coaxing you back out of the room with a gentle nudge at the crook of your arm.

The Prince wasn’t lying when he said it was a surprise. There was no way in the seven seas you would have guessed where he was stealing you away to.

After going through a hidden door behind a curtain at the end of a corridor, you were soon rushing down a winding staircase flooded with natural light from open stonework and a roofless nook. By the end of the stairs over your incessant questioning, you began to hear the subtle laps of waves, and as you walked through a final vaulted tunnel, you stepped right out onto a secluded, private beach.

The golden sands dribbled along the waterline, and the turquoise sea rolled itself up onto the beach before sliding back out with a practised ease. The beach itself must have been half the size of the bay’s town, and by tipping your head back you took in the equally pristine mountains that funnelled themselves around the crescent coast. 

Hidden, on the other side of the mountain range, Steve had brought you to the Palace’s private cove. 

‘There’s been a hidden passage to the fucking ocean this entire time?’ You suddenly turned to Steve, his face falling at your words as you expertly hid a creeping smile. It was evident he had expected a little more gratuity from you, perhaps words of wonder, and your feigned annoyance threw him.

‘Well I… I had to make sure that you weren’t going to…’ he trailed off, unsure what the correct words should be. Truthfully, he’d intended to save this spot to surprise you into kindness. To subdue your harsh exterior into a melting form just for him. To woo you.

After months of watching you fawn along the palace walls, it was without question that this would be your place of happiness. One he’d offer you.

And now after looking upon your squinted expression under the beating sun, he was second guessing himself.

‘That I wasn’t going to escape?’ You proposed, voice lightening as you bent over to your boots, the crook of a smile on your lips as your fingers started to harshly tug at your laces. 

‘No… I-‘ Steve queried, now unsure of his own motives as he copied the growing smirk on your face.

With the second boot off, you cast it the side. ‘That I wasn’t going to swim away, never to be seen again?’ You giggled, now shredding your ankle stockings free from your feet. 

Steve barely had a chance to compute the reasonings for your actions before you were suddenly bolting towards the waves, your bare heels digging into the sand with every sprinting step as your fingers hoisted up your skirts.

The elated squeal that fell from your lips as your feet found themselves surrounding by the spilling waves had Steve’s heart burning, and as you waded out further until you were calf deep in the water, he began to tread closer. 

The cool kisses of the salty sea against your skin had you humming in content, and for a moment you allowed yourself to sink into the sensation - physically, as the wet sand under you weight began to swallow your feet. 

You could have stood there all day; the glittering ocean spread across your vision, the salt breeze filling your nose, the frothing waves swirling around your legs. It was heaven.

The stillness that overtook you once in the water paused Steve, who waited patiently at the edge of the waves as he took you in. With the midday sunlight bouncing off of the water, it cast an almost magical sheen to your surroundings, twinkling lights shimmering around you as if you yourself were the commander of the waves, and they were keening at your rule. 

He stayed quiet, ignoring the selfishness he felt that he was the one to provide you with this serenity, and it wasn’t until a little while later that you finally came back down to earth, a rogue wave splashing up your legs as it wet the edge of your dress. 

You gasped softly, giggling as the intrusive wave dragged itself back out to sea, before crashing back again as it licked your knees. 

Steve hadn’t realised he was chuckling with you until you turned and watched him at the sound. Your bright eyes caught him, and he found himself stepping towards you as if you were a siren. 

‘Your boots!’ You pointed at him, before facing back out the sea as the Prince removed his shoes and rolled up his trousers. 

‘This is perfect,’ you muttered under your breath, the splashing of water as Steve joined you smothering your calm words. 

‘Do you like it?’ Steve asked, a little breathless from the chill of the sea. 

You nodded, eyes closed as you let the sun bask on your bare face, cold water hitting your knees again with a grin. 

‘Thank you,’ you said calmly, ‘for the surprise.’

The water soon began to torment the Prince, the cuffs of his slacks dampening with each wave, and after a moment his hand slipped into yours, a warm familiarity flourishing. 

‘Come with me.’

‘Where?’ You asked as he trailed you back onto the moist sand edge. You each scooped up your shoes, his attention turning to a small dark opening at the base of a cliff on the other end of the beach. 

‘There’s more?’ You murmured, Steve glancing at you over his shoulder. 

‘The beach isn’t the surprise Mae,’ he assured, giving your palm a little squeeze as he ducked his head. 

As you neared you noticed how the ceiling flickered with reflected water ripples, like a mirror had been placed above a brightly lit pond. 

‘This isn’t where you plan to kill me is it?’ You asked cautiously, aware that clearly no one knew of this location, and the two of you were dangerously alone.

You couldn’t yet determine why it felt dangerous being alone with him, so secluded and tucked away. Anything could happen.  

‘No,’ he laughed heartily, guiding you through the rounded tunnel before your vision darkened from the lack of sunlight. ‘No that would be too obvious,’ he played along, calming you slightly. ‘I don’t plan on killing you down here.’

What do you plan on doing to me down here then, you thought, your internal concerns suddenly being silenced as you stumbled upon a glowing, shallow cave. 

Rich, caramel sand layered the ground and a constant tide of azure water rolled across it. The cave was only a hand taller than the Prince, who stood proudly in the centre of it as he beamed up at you, where you remained at the top of some smooth, rocky slabs. 

There was a natural light to the room, as if the water itself was truly glowing and illuminating the small cave. It was more than likely that the ocean had funnelled its way into this hollow through an open passage beneath the cliffs, the sunlight able to seep through and cast an eerie glimmer to the space, but the magic remained. 

‘This is the surprise,’ Steve clarified, speaking up as you still hadn’t said anything, just stared about the space in childlike wonder. 

‘It’s beautiful,’ you managed when you found your tongue, stepping down the steps with the help of Steve as he aided you down with a firm hand. 

‘Isn’t it?’ He agreed, standing next to you now as your shoes clattered against a rocky slab. 

Your toes dipped in the new water, the waves being surprisingly warm despite the covered roof, and with a small shuffle of sand, half your leg disappeared beneath the surface as the ground dipped down, dangerously steep. 

‘Careful,’ Steve murmured, catching your elbow before you stumbled and fell, your eyes glued to almost milky sheen the deep water held as you couldn’t locate your toes. 

‘How deep is this?’ You asked, firstly curious before a second note of apprehension surged through you. You were stepping back slowly, Steve misreading the gesture for a concern of something else. 

‘Quite deep,’ he replied, grip tightening on your arm as you yanked it back. ‘But it’s safe.’

He was as foolish as he was pretty to look at. 

‘Nothing that deep is safe,’ you explained, voice firm as your smile slipped from your face. ‘We shouldn’t be in here,’ you murmured, stepping back so your ankles were no longer hugged by the water. 

‘No just- just wait,’ he spoke, disheartened that you weren’t following him.

‘Wait for what?’

On cue, as if they could smell Steve’s sweat through the ocean, a slick, navy-haired head bobbed up from beneath the water. 

‘Steve…’ you cautioned, taking another step back at his displeasure as he kept looking between you and the visitor. 

‘It’s okay!’ He encouraged, the head gliding through the water as two silver eyes finally latched onto you. 

You’d always heard about a mermaids beauty. The shining scales that trailed across hairlines and cheekbones, the dark blue hue of their lips that hid sharp, spiked teeth. The shimmering of their tale as it swayed below the surface. 

You’d seen the back of one once, right before it lunged for one of the crew members in a nearby rowing boat and dragged them into the dark depths before they even had a chance to scream. 

‘Steve,’ you warned again, tone harsher as you tried to coax him out of the water. 

‘Steven,’ they cooed. ‘You brought a friend.’

‘This is-‘

‘Rose,’ you lied. Every pirate knew it was bad luck to have a mermaid utter your name. 

‘Rose,’ they repeated, as if they could taste the falseness on their forked tongue. 

Steve looked at you now, unsure for the false pretence before he finally noted the whites of your eyes. The subdued fear you were trying to hide in the midst of an angel demon. 

‘Rose is staying in the palace with me, for my mother,’ Steve continued, foolishly unaware to how the mermaids eyes darkened at the words.

‘It’s been moons since you were here last,’ their voice tinkled, soft like feathers as the wispy sound flooded the cavern.

‘I know, I’m sorry,’ Steve apologised, shifting his weight in the sinking sand under the water as he showed genuine remorse. It was as if their siren sound had stolen his attention from your concerns, and you were now witnessing first hand how so many sailors could fall into a mermaids grasp so easily.

What most baffled you however, was the fact it seemed like Steve would come here often, and yet as far as you were aware, he’d often leave these interactions unharmed. Why else would he come back with such a false sense of security?

‘Did you want to play?’ They asked, a practiced innocence oozing from them as Steve smiled brightly, as if he were a child himself again.

‘Steve,’ you called out, the tightness in your throat making the mermaid eye you warily. ‘I’m rather hungry.’

He looked at you over his shoulder, genuine anguish on his face as if you were forcing him to choose between his slippery friend, or food.

‘Perhaps we should head back?’ You tried as you held his gaze.

‘Just one swim Steven,’ the mermaid cooed.

‘Just one swim Rose,’ Steve now turned to you, eyebrows furrowing as he struggled to see why you didn’t want to indulge in the fun.

‘I really think we should head back,’ you insisted, feet stepping you further away from the waters edge as siren eyes watched you hungrily.

‘Steven,’ they sang.

‘Steve.’

‘I don’t know what’s come over you-,’ he started, blinking at you with a vexed expression.

‘Steven.’

‘- and you’re being very rude-‘

‘Steve,’ you gritted out his name as you noticed the mermaid swimming closer to him.

‘-but you have nothing to be frightened of.’

‘Just one swim!’ The mermaid finally snarled, gripping his ankle with a shredding tug as the Prince was suddenly dragged down with a splash. His arms flailed about as the wild whipping of the mermaids tail filled your view, and as you watched them both dive beneath the water, your dagger was in your hold before you knew it.

A flurry of bubbles tickled your face as you dove in after them, and they hadn’t managed to get far before you were able to grab hold of one of Steve’s hands. The tug halted the mermaid for a moment, your free arm able to slice through the water and gauge itself into the end of her tail.

You could hear their shriek through the water, and swirls of red started to dance around you. Another slash and your hold on Steve finally yanked him free, the mermaids sharp fangs barrelling towards you as Steve kicked to the surface.

Your dagger dug into whatever flesh rammed itself your way, and with every mustering hack you could throw you were met with equally vicious teeth and claws. Blood now stained whatever touched you, a mixture of both yours and the mermaids as your wounds wept into the water.

With a mad dash and the last bit of breath you held, you reached forward and felt your blade slit along the mermaids tough skin. She shrieked again, bubbles billowing around you as their tail shoved them away in pain, but you kept on swinging against the waves, even as a hand hauled you to the surface from the scruff of your corset.

Sand touched your fingers, and as you breached the surface you were immediately crawling backwards, heels and wrists sinking deep into the sand as you scurried back, Steve’s heaving form dragging you himself with whatever clothing he could hold onto.

The wet slap of your dress announced you’d reached the stone slabs near the entrance, and after a final look at the now calming water at the dip of the slope, you pushed yourself to your feet with all the strength you could muster. You found it particularly difficult with the weight of your numerous underskirts and silks, but you had a new strength funnelling through you now as you caught a glimpse of Steve next to you - soaking and smiling.

His shirt had glued itself to his body, and before you allowed him the opportunity to make a sarcastic comment upon him noticing your line of sight, you turned up to the steps, striding back out onto the beach.

‘Wait-!’ He called out, your name falling pitifully from his lips as he scrambled to his own feet to follow. ‘Slow down.’

The sun blinded him momentarily as he exited the tunnel, the afternoon sun beating down on to him, the hot sand, and your waterlogged form. You were facing away from him when he noticed you, your fingers fiddling behind your back as you loosened the corset that held up your dress, an entire entourage of material collapsing at the release of those ties.

Steve wasn’t sure where to look, the skin on your arms and calf’s suddenly baring itself to him as your dress pooled at your ankles, and the outfit was soon being slapped onto a nearby boulder, sizzling from the sun. You unclipped the buckles of your leather holster, the accessory following suit as it was stretched out beside your dress. Finally with your dagger in hand, you were storming off again in nothing but your undergarments, and a flimsy shift that rested at your knees.

At the silent march, Steve finally registered what it was you were doing. His fingers dug into the cotton of his waist coat, shirt and trousers, before he too was undressing, placing the dripping material onto a nearby boulder.

He turned to follow you once left in his stays, noticing you’d now reached a nearby rock pool. Your dagger swiftly sliced off a lower portion of your shift, soaking the scrap of material with clean water before you swiped it up your arms, legs and shoulders, the weeping red of thin cuts that garnished your body trickling into Steve’s view. After slapping the cloth back into the water to clean and wring it out, you headed towards a sheltered stretch of sand to perch upon, Steve wordlessly following.

It was as you settled, messy ringlets of hair falling from your up do and your almost bare attire that he registered this was the longest you had probably gone with not speaking to him.

The sight of the topless Prince as he neared was not entirely unpleasant, but the frustration building within you at his insolence quelled any building heat you would have allowed yourself.

‘How can you be so stupid?’ Your voice was harsh like the dagger resting at your hip, and as he plopped onto the pillowing sand next to you, you flung the damp cloth his way before pointing at his ankle. He ignored the now prominent sting to his leg, chasing your gaze instead as you refused to meet his eyes.

‘Pardon?’

‘You heard me,’ you bit back, a dry scoff escaping Steve. 

‘Well I’m sorry for wanting to give you a surprise,’ he started indignantly, wincing only slightly as he decided to tend to his own gashes, ‘show you something I’ve kept secret since I was a little boy-‘

‘You gave me quite the surprise, thank you very much,’ you muttered back, wringing out the cotton fabric of your sleeves as the water dribbled onto the sand at your side. 

‘Do you even know how dangerous mermaids are?’ You finally turned, eyes wild as you stared at Steve. You ignored the way your gaze caught the dribbling rivulets of water that careened down his toned body.

‘Well now I do-‘

‘They are predators Steve. It’s a miracle they haven’t tried to take you before!’ You spat, your attention now back out towards the ocean before you raised your hand. ‘Although I suppose it makes sense due to … this,’ you said as more of an afterthought.

‘What?’ Steve was confused now, the scrap of your shift now forgotten by his feet.

‘This,’ you gestured your palm to his face, rather begrudgingly. ‘Your face.’

‘Are you saying that my face has been my saving grace all these years?’ His back straightened as he seemed rather proud of himself. ‘My raw beauty stunned the mermaids into-‘

‘You are insufferable,’ you groaned. ‘Even now you’re joking.’

‘Well, sorry for having enormous flaws that I refuse to work on.’

You could tell that the Prince was deflecting, the ordeal likely something he’d never intended nor experienced before, and you took the following bout of silence as a chance to address the seriousness of the situation. 

‘Your charm may have kept you safe for so long, but bringing me here was stupid,’ you explained with a monotonous tone, chancing a glance towards Steve to check he was listening. ‘Mermaids are highly territorial and loyal. As far as they were concerned, you were theirs. And then you turn up with me…’ you trailed off slightly, swallowing a lump in your throat. 

‘I am not theirs,’ Steve addressed, as if he was trying to convince someone other than himself. ‘And they’ve never behaved like that before.’

The thought crossed your mind before you could wish it away, and an ugliness in your voice sprung forth before you could catch yourself.

‘I bet you bring all your conquests here,’ you shivered, muttering under your breath, squeezing your other sleeve in an attempt to dry it. ‘Get them nearly naked after you act like a hero.’

‘I don’t even know which part of that to argue with first,’ he sighed before turning to you fully. ‘You’re not a conquest. And I wasn’t the one who stripped you of your clothes.’

Indignation flared in your eyes as you faced him. ‘Would you rather I sat in sodden silk and heavy whalebone as I aired out naturally then?’

The anger still blazing in you had the Prince resign his efforts. ‘No that’s not what I was saying.’

You bundled the ripped ends of your shift by your thighs now and squeezed, water dripping down below you as the far off ocean tried to match the sound. You could feel Steve’s stare catching on the skin above your knee, as you yourself attempted to purposefully disregard the way his skin now glistened under the sunlight as he dried out.

‘So how many other women have you brought down here?’ You hoped it didn’t sound resentful. You were merely making an observation and required the insight, but you instantly regretted the question as the Prince bristled in his seat, shuffling closer casually.

‘Is someone jealous?’ He smirked, as you refused to meet his eye.

‘Steve,’ you said bluntly, his shoulders slumping slightly.

‘A few,’ he answered honestly, which made you hum in thought. ‘Why?’

‘It’s just odd they would react this way at my presence and not others.’

Steve stayed quiet, allowing you to speak your thoughts to put them into place. Your mind must have been busy, because you were soon mumbling under your breath.

‘Maybe I smelled different,’ you pondered mostly to yourself, Steve eyeing you as you offered an explanation. 

‘Mermaids can smell almost anything,’ you eventually pivoted towards him after a hush of thought. ‘Pirate lore says they can smell emotions, like fear or love. That’s why you should stay clear of them. They already know everything about you before they’ve even seen you.’

Steve’s tongue fattened. If what you were saying was true, he could already tell the reason for their sudden change of demeanour at your appearance. 

Other girls, other women, none had a hold on his heart like you did. Sure he felt heat and lust for them at some point, often commandeering a surprisingly smooth sloped rock in the corner of the cove to help the ladies reach their peak, but now with you in his presence, he could tell the heat and the lust were mere pinpoints in a map of his true feelings for you. 

You were everything he had been searching for, and your drowned appearance only enhanced his affection for you as you looked positively bedraggled in the flitting sunlight above.

At the Prince’s lack of response you started to grumble to yourself, completely oblivious to where his thoughts had journeyed to.

‘Gods,’ you whined, ‘I hate being wet…ugh!’

‘Aren’t you pirates always wet?’ A shadow of a taunt dusting his lips as you glared at him. ‘You know… from the sea?’ 

‘Not voluntarily, no.’

‘So you’re voluntarily wet right now?’

You eyed him carefully, your lips downturned in measured distaste. ‘Your mother would surely hang me if you died. Don’t make me kill you.’

At that you stood up, snatching the sandy cloth that sat nestled between you both before you wandered back over to the rock pools. The sun glinted off your scar-kissed skin, and Steve simply watched as you washed your again weeping wounds, the afternoon heat cooking your clothes until they were dry enough to wear again.

~ ~ ~

The sun had dipped to the mountain line by the time your clothes were ready, long, groaning shadows sweeping across the beach as you both prepared to make your way back to the palace. By the time you reached the top of the spiral stone staircase, the chatter of the evening brimmed in the halls, Steve hurriedly sneaking you back to your quarters before anyone could see. 

When your bedroom door opened, you didn’t entirely complain when Steve followed you silently inside, a glimpse at both of your creased and crumpled attire proof enough that you should continue to remain out of sight.

You hadn’t much more to say to the Prince following the days ordeal, but as you darted about the room lighting candles, you weren’t entirely opposed to the way he was making himself comfortable on the large bed.

Under the rosy hue of your candle lit bedroom, Steve watched you closely. He observed how you dipped behind a screen to strip off the days sandy outfit, the way you re-emerged in a frilled, draping gown instead, and how you cautiously stepped towards him at the bed, rounding the opposite side to him before slumping onto the feathered covers. 

Your hair had been shaken free of your sharp pins, and the unbrushed locks splayed out around your head as you stared up at the ceiling. The bed dipped slightly above you, and without turning your head you could sense that the Prince had now copied you, feet dangling of the opposite side of the bed as his head rested near yours. 

Surprisingly, the rage that had fuelled your day had quelled, a simmering something-else soon taking over you as you allowed yourself to relax in the Prince’s presence. 

‘Thank you,’ your voice was quiet as you heard the bed springs creak as he tilted his head your way. ‘For today.’

‘I don’t think you should be thanking me for anything,’ he lacked the usual jest his tone held, lips not smiling alongside the obvious guilt eating at him.

‘Well no,’ you conceded, ‘almost becoming a mermaids lunch was not on my agenda-’

He chuckled beside you, your head finally dropping his way as you watched him. 

‘But you showed me somewhere beautiful. And I’m extremely grateful for that gift… and for you pulling me out of that cave pool.’

‘I shouldn’t have put you in a situation where you had to dive in after me,’ he sighed.

You rolled onto your elbow, propping yourself up to watch over Steve before he copied. 

‘Ideally no,’ you nodded bluntly, ‘but you weren’t to know any better.’

His eyes glowered at the reminder of his foolishness. ‘I just wanted to do something nice for you.’

‘You did,’ you comforted him now, fingers reaching over to his hand that pressed into the soft duvet, the gentle touch offering a calm he could not seek elsewhere. ‘I had a day away from the Palace without any repercussions. I’ve been dreaming of that for too long.’

He cocked his head to the side as a shy smile finally touched his lips, and if it weren’t for the dim candlelight, you would have noticed the blush dusting his cheeks at your solace too.

‘Well I’m glad I could be of service.’

The moonlight didn’t take long to trickle through your wispy curtains, the balcony doors now often permanently open with the summer heat, but the passing of time went unnoticed as you two remained on your bed, sprawled out over the covers as you rested against some ornate pillows.

‘So is that why you’ve not been to the library recently?’ Steve queried, a soft gaze heavy on your cheeks. ‘You’ve been too busy raiding our kitchens?’

He laughed now, eliciting a giggling slap from yourself as you pushed his tipping form away.

‘I should never have confessed that,’ you sighed with a roll of your eyes, ignoring the pang of guilt you felt in your chest at the notion the Prince had been monitoring your attendance. ‘It’s not my fault that Constance has taken all the good bread rolls by the time I’m sat down. And don’t even get me started on the grapes-‘

Steve could sense the rant that was about to flow from you, and dropped his large hand on your own in a move to hopefully silence you. It worked for a moment, forcing you to swallow thickly at the heat now spreading through you from the simple touch. 

‘Why haven’t you visited the library?’ Steve asked again, more sombrely as his thumb now stroked your burning skin. 

Your tongue fattened as you attempted to conjure a lie, but the weariness of the day had seeped into your bones, and you relaxed further into your pillows in defeat. 

‘The charts I need aren’t there anymore.’

There was a minuscule pause in Steve’s ministrations to the tops of your fingers, as if he didn’t expect something of such honest substance to be released. 

‘Why do you need charts?’ He asked, clearing his throat before he attempted a joke. ‘Planning to escape?’

‘Naturally.’

His lips parted at the admission, before you continued. 

‘The charts allow me to see how much of the world is land. I’ve spent so long on the ocean, it’s difficult to get my bearings on solid ground. I want to see what the rest of the kingdoms look like…’

It wasn’t a complete lie, and he softened at the notion.

‘Besides,’ you continued, ‘I never wanted to finish my life in a Palace, so of course I’m always plotting an escape.’

The statement went unnoticed by Steve, who simply continued with his questioning, as if at this point he was just asking you questions without listening to what you were saying, and simply wanting to listen to the sound of your voice instead. To keep you engaged with him. 

‘Is that why you watch the horizon? The ocean?’ His fingertips dug into your hand a little harder than necessary, the thought of you leaving his palace something he’d struggle to come to terms with. 

Your head dipped in a causal nod. ‘Got to see if there’s any passing ships worth noting.’

‘Naturally,’ Steve said, repeating your earlier response with a gentle squeeze of your hand. 

His fingers unexpectedly trailed a line of fever up your arm then, nudging the edges of your gowns sleeves at your elbows as you watched how his eyes followed your exposed skin. 

‘How are your cuts?’ His voice had dropped, thick with care as he continued tracing his hand up your arm. 

‘They’re fine,’ you murmured, nodding down to his feet that rested next to yours. The bed was huge enough for the both of you to turn freely, and yet after the hours alone, you’d somehow found your way closer. ‘How’s your ankle?’

‘Fine,’ he repeated with a feigned wince, his words faint. 

‘Well that’s good,’ you said with a smile, catching the Prince’s gaze that seemed to impossibly darken at the eye contact. 

His hand rested on the crook of your hip now, nerves building in your chest as you fiddled with your fingers in front of you. You watched as Steve parted his lips, as if he had something new to say, but instead you felt a sense of loss as you felt him pull back slightly, as if the words hadn’t come to him. 

‘I should let you rest,’ Steve whispered, a resigned nod urging him to roll away from you. 

‘Probably for the best,’ you lied, sinful images of what you and the Prince could be doing in your quarters flooding your rationality. Images of you both alone, uninterrupted, unclothed. 

He rolled away from you with a dramatic groan, standing to his feet before he stretched his arms above his head. 

A sliver of skin peeked out from under his shirt, and just as you managed to scrub the image of him topless from your mind, it whirled itself right back in. 

‘Well goodnight then, my lady,’ he said softly with a tip of his head. 

‘Goodnight Steve.’

The door shut behind him with a muffled clunk as you were left alone with your thoughts for the evening.  

Chapter Text

The ocean churned, the sky wept, and the ship rocked with every lashing wave at its side. The storm had burst open above you all, swift and heavy as the crew scurried over the slippery deck to keep her steady. 

The ship had lurched dangerously to one side, and as you and Eddie diligently tightened your knots, your feet were still easily wobbling beneath you both. 

A crashing wave swamped the deck, and your sandals squelched as you waded through the puddles to the next set of knots. 

‘Keep ‘er steady!’ You heard over the gales, thunderous echoes flashing above the clouds as the rain continued to beat down on you. The Captain was on the upper deck, surveying his crew as his fingers tightened around the helm, and everyone moved at his command. 

The deck abruptly shifted, the upright mast now lunging the opposite way as it tilted the weight of the ship with it. Your fingers grabbed the nearest rope, curling it around your wrist as your feet slid out from underneath you, but before you could check that Eddie had tied himself down too, his body slopped ungracefully to the ground. 

‘Eddie,’ you spat out, rain and sea water creeping along your lips as you squinted his way, watching how his sodden shirt skidded along the wood before the heavy lump of his body hit the gun-wall across the way. A wave crested over the side, pressing him harder into the deck as his arms flailed. The water then spilled through the canon cubbies, the mast leaning back into place, and suddenly Eddie was no longer in view.

‘Ed!’ You yelled, charging over the deck to peer over the side, ignoring your Captains order as he yelled about the ropes. 

‘MAN OVERBOARD!’ You screamed, turning to Pete who appeared at your side. 

‘Go tighten those knots pet,’ he yelled over the wind, your hands grasping a dangling rope instead before turning on him. 

‘No,’ you insisted, winding the rope around your waist a few times before knotting it haphazardly. ‘Dick, get the knots! Pete-‘ you thrust another hanging rope end into his hold as you hoisted yourself atop the railing, fisting the above ladder as your grip tightened. ‘…on my signal.’

Your feet shuffled along the grimy wood, your gaze glued to the frothing sea below as Eddie’s white shirt shot into view. 

There was no chance for you to hear Pete’s or the Captains concerns, your feet launching you from the boat into the water as soon as you’d located Eddie. 

The freezing water scratched your skin, and as wave on wave rolled over you, nothing would stop you from reaching him.

His body was limp in the water, no effort made to keep himself afloat, and as soon as you could touch him, your vice grip refused to let go. 

The faint call of your name drifted from the ship, but as blood rushed in your ears and water rushed into your mouth, you focused on wrapping your arms and legs around Eddie, flipping him upwards with a heave so he was no longer face down. 

With everything you had, you clutched to Eddie, a strangled ‘Now!’ escaping you as you felt a tug around your belly. 

Ice dragged over your back, scraping and licking every bit of you as you tightened your hold around Eddie’s torso, wave after wave wanting to drown you both over and over. 

‘Heave!’ Pete ordered, your body tensing to secure both your drenched bodies on the ropes tether as you were lifted from the water. 

If you were crying, no one could tell, your face red and sopping as you landed with a splat on the deck, Eddie rolling with you. 

Pete and his deckhand hauled him from you, the Captain now ordering blankets and rum as what remaining crew left yanked on every loosening sail. 

‘Get up,’ you slapped Eddie’s cheek, sliding over to him as Pete removed his ear from his mouth. Pete’s fist came down on Eddie’s chest then; once, twice, heavy thumps that would be sure to leave bruises before his mouth flew open, heaving gasps of air rushing through him as he spat to his side. 

‘There we go,’ Pete mumbled, patting your shoulder once before rushing off to another corner of the ship. 

‘How can you be so stupid?’ You cursed, Eddie’s eyes widening at the sight of you almost straddling him, a small woven decanter of rum suddenly thrust into his hand before you were guiding it to his lips. 

He gagged on the drink, liquid heat coasting down his throat as he sniffed loudly. 

‘Me, stupid?’ Eddie wondered aloud, your face not lightening up as it usually would. 

Despite the way you both swilled about with the movement of the waves, it was as if he’d taken his first breath again, and he finally noticed you. The way your hair line was slick back and plastered around your ears. The way your sopping locks dripped like a river around him. The way your clothes weren’t just damp from rain - they were soaked. 

Just like him. 

‘Looks like you copied me,’ he managed a weak chuckle before you punched his shoulder. 

‘You ass!’ You stressed, before throwing your arms around his shoulders. ‘I almost lost you.’

The crew continued to pull and tug and duck and steer as the ship weaved and dipped through the storm. 

No one questioned why you weren’t on your feet and helping. No one even dared to drag you back to duty. The Captain belayed orders around you, the ship coming alive as a patch of clear sky appeared ahead, a new course set through the sails and helm.

As you peeled yourself back from Eddies hold, staring at his face with nothing but relief that you hadn’t lost him, you sank into the moment, a warmth brimming within your eyes and chest. 

Never had you been able to imagine a moment where you would feel so much love for this boy…until now.

~ ~ ~

Eddie felt nauseous. 

The image of the Prince stroking his hands along your body as you both lay leisurely upon your bed had been seared into his mind. He couldn’t rid himself of the vision. 

While admittedly there had been little for Eddie to discuss with you that night, the effort you’d clearly put in to traipsing down the mountain the evening before had stirred his heart again. A warm affection bloomed, as if the bud had simply closed momentarily for winter, and it became a constant thought throughout the day that he should climb to you. 

The constant thought throughout the following days however, had been incessantly about you and the Prince. Alone in your quarters. Nothing but candlelight dancing off your evening clothes. Should he have interrupted? Stopped whatever spell you’d clearly been cast under?

Successfully he’d managed to dodge your meetings, a friend at the stable claiming there was a young miss searching for him. Eddie thought he had done well, until one day he saw you and the Prince stumbling into the yard. 

He’d spent the morning grooming a swarm of horses, the King’s command that they be ready for a precession in the coming days ringing in his ears as he diligently dragged a brush through their summer coats. 

At the sound of your voice though, he peered over the spine of the large horse he stood behind, another stable hand walking up to you both. 

‘We require two horses at your earliest convenience,’ Steve had said plainly, his authority flourishing his command as Eddie missed the way you sneered up at the Prince. 

‘Of course Sir.’ The mere boy turned on his heel, heading back to the barn before he noticed the clean white mare that Eddie was attending to. 

‘Eddie! Is that one ready?’ He called out loudly, unlatching a stable gate as he guided out a chestnut coloured stead.

Eddie was hopeful you were too preoccupied with whatever the Prince was saying to you, but at the sound of his name your head turned, catching on Eddie’s now still frame. 

Begrudgingly he nodded, following the boy now with his horse in tow as a clattering of hooves clicked on the cobblestones. Steve seemed adept enough that as soon as the reins were in his hold, he started to prep the beast, gathering a saddle nearby as the other stable hand ran to fetch one for you.

‘Eddie,’ you breathed in a hushed whisper, a calming smile taking over your face as you wandered the small distance over. He plastered on a tight lipped smile, taking a moment to allow the brush to slip from his hold onto a nearby stool, before straightening back up to you.

He had done so well at keeping you at bay. But the moment you invaded his space, his view, he felt slightly weak in the knees, the sheer glee you showed from finally seeing him whittling away at his resolve. 

‘Miss,’ he quipped back, eyeing up the Prince over your shoulder, who watched your interaction intently, curiosity dousing his eyebrows as they scrunched up. 

Eddie was being far more reserved than usual, and it was telling. You looked over him in scrutiny, before deciding it was likely due to the Royal company residing closely behind. 

‘The Queen has ordered me to keep Steve company on his outings,’ you started, a shy smile pricking your lips. ‘He is taking me horse riding today.’ Your eyes glimmered at the thrill of feigned freedom, away from the palace walls. 

You were excited to share your success, while Eddie was mourning the loss of you … to the Prince. 

‘Congratulations,’ Eddie replied bluntly, desperately trying to build up a wall between you both that you continued to expertly chip away at. The other lad finally appeared with the saddle, Eddie taking it from him with a gruntled ‘I’ve got it’ before shifting it onto the horses back.

You watched how he silently worked, his nimble fingers tightening up the buckles on the belly, and something akin to remorse twisted in your gut.

‘Is anything the matter?’ You asked, chasing his gaze that fell on anywhere but you. 

‘Peachy, Princess,’ he finally said, his tone masking something you couldn’t decipher, urging you to press on regardless.

‘So have you heard anything?’ You asked innocently enough, the tightness in Eddies chest clipping his words.

‘No, nothing yet.’ He readjusted another belt of leather around the horses side, and you attempted a glance back at Steve, a nervous shuffle of the horses legs thankfully shielding you from his view as you stared at Eddie.

‘Well can I…’ you dropped your voice to a whisper, missing the way Steve searched for you from over the horse. ‘Can I see you tonight?’

Eddie stilled, a mirage blurring into his brain, lips parting before he had a chance to reject the proposal.

‘I can come down the mountain if you’re tired?’ You offered, and even in the strained pretence he tried to deter you with, it rolled right off of you. 

You were being sweet, sickeningly sweet, and all that Eddie could muster under the watchful eyes of the Prince was a short, ‘no I … I don’t think that will be necessary.’

His thoughts burned with the image of you and the Prince again, his jealousy white hot as it branded his heart with ugly words. Your face dropped, disappointed in his response before your attention was once more captured by the call of your name.

‘Is your horse ready?’ Steve questioned, hoisting himself into his saddle with an elegance few could muster for such a large horse. 

Your gaze fell back to Eddie, his head dipped as he nodded curtly, handing you the reins as he took a step back, allowing you to position yourself by the horse.

‘Yes!’ You answered, slightly strained as you prepared to gather yourself.

‘So you need to make sure that your front hand is on the saddle-‘ Steve started to direct you, but he was cut off when he saw how you swiftly hoisted yourself into the seat, your skirts billowing around your knees as you sat astride the saddle, completely oblivious - or uncaring - to the shocked looks of the few stable hands around.

You felt how Eddie’s hand subtly smoothed a few silks out of view, and as you stared at the Prince, you watched how he recollected himself.

‘You er-‘ he swallowed, firstly unsure how you’d managed to reach the top so easily, before focusing on the more pressing vision at hand. ‘You don’t want to sit sidesaddle?’

It clearly bothered him, or so you thought, and with a shrug of your shoulders you casually replied, ‘but this is how you sit on a horse, why can’t I?’

You knew why. You could hear the muffled scoff from Eddie by your feet as he busied himself with some nearby tools. He recalled how your father had scolded you when you were younger, saying how unladylike it was to sit with your legs either side of the horse. You’d of course initially learned how to sit sidesaddle, but it didn’t take long before you’d swing your leg back over with a childlike grace as you squealed with glee at how much faster you could go.

In your moment of defiance however, it didn’t occur to you that simply being able to get onto the horse would confuse Steve so much. Until you realised that he merely saw you as a pirate, and not someone who had been landlocked most of her childhood.

He likely thought you were more akin to riding turtles or dolphins, than a horse. 

‘Quite right,’ Steve smirked, casting a dirty look to anyone around who seemed to stare at the skin of your shins too long before he steered his way out of the yard with a click of his tongue as your horse trotted over to catch up.

You glanced back over your shoulder in search of Eddie, only seeing the back of his head as he wondered further into the shade of the barn. You decided then and there that you would find him later. He’d been so busy lately, never around when you’ve tried to call, and something was clearly irking him. You would visit him tonight, you decided.

~ ~ ~

‘That stable boy-‘ Steve started, pausing with a sharp breath as if he expected you to answer all his unsaid questions from just those three words.

The lanes away from the stable and the palace guard were thin and winding, and while you diligently followed Steve, it was only a short ride until the paths started to branch out wider, allowing him to pull back and pace his horse beside yours.

The sun was dribbling over the tops of nearby trees, and meadow after meadow seemed to stretch out before you as you trotted along the rolling hills that sat behind the palace.

‘Yes?’ You responded, an unyielding tone to your voice as you refused to divulge anything without a proper question.

Steve noticed, nervously chuckling. ‘You seemed to be very friendly with him.’

‘Friendly how?’ Only a dunce would have missed his evident jealousy.

‘Talking…’ he trailed off once more, your next blunt statement leaving you easily.

‘What, like we are now?’ Your words could have been feigned for innocence, but the slight sharpening to your tone held more than you were saying, and Steve had now learned to read between your hidden lines and meanings.

‘No just…’ he started to backtrack, his hips lilting each side with every stride of his horse, ‘I’ve never really had much to say to the staff.’

It was an honest statement, one you were surprised he’d so freely admitted.

‘I think that says more about you than you realise,’ you stunned him into silence. As bold and as honest as his statement was, it didn’t make the meaning any less arrogant.

‘It’s called being polite, and if you’re going to be running a kingdom one day, then you should know how every bit of it works,’ you continued. ‘That includes talking to your employees.’

The silence buzzed with flitting bees and swishing meadow grass, the soft thumps of your horses hooves clipping the parched dirt beneath the thinning grass.

‘Besides, I suppose you’re partially doing that already,’ you finally added, despite his lack of response, ‘seeing as I am your mothers staff.’

His response was instant. ‘That’s different.’

‘How?’

‘The Queen’s ladies they’re not… you’re not seen as staff,’ he defended, practically squirming in his saddle as you chanced a look at him. ‘At least not to me.’

‘If you insist,’ you teased, lashing the reins against the horse as you forced yourself into a canter.

You heard how Steve rushed to reach you, the pummelling of hooves against the dry ground encroaching on you as you continued on.

It was only until the sun was fully kissing the back of your neck did you slow down, Steve panting as a thin sheen of sweat dusted his brow,

‘I didn’t think pirates knew how to ride horses,’ he managed as he caught up with you, adrenaline flushing your face and tugging your smile higher as you shrugged a shoulder.

‘Oh I um… I guess it can’t be that difficult then.’

He barked out a laugh, steering you both into a clearing lined by thick, old trees. 

He slid off his horse, looping the rein over a nearby branch to which you copied and followed him over to a fallen tree log. You watched as pinecones and sizeable rocks were soon lined along the top of the tree trunk by the Prince, and as he stepped back to you, you registered the gleam of a polished wood handle at his hip.

‘I wanted to teach you something,’ he said rather proudly, fingers cradling the butt of a gun handle in his belt. 

‘Was it foraging?’ You mocked, smirking at the display on the tree in front of you as you pointedly avoided his stare. 

‘No,’ he chuckled, closing the distance between you both as he tugged the weapon free from its holster. ‘You’ve shown me how to properly use a sword. Now let me show you… how to fire a pistol.’

You would think that as well trained you were with sword play, you would be as equally adept with other weapons. The gunpowder beast however sat uneasily with you, and you recalled what Pete had explained to you and Eddie before your first battle.

‘Now if they draw’r gun, you run. Got’i? Guns are cheat’n. Only real fighters know t’stick with swords.’

There was likely the heavy underlying that it was a lot harder to cure multiple gunshots wounds than a clean cut stab, but the advice stuck with you all this time. 

Guns were cheating. 

‘Aren’t guns lazy?’ You tried instead, hiding your building concern with another hit at the Prince’s ego. 

‘Lazy?’ He scoffed, ‘No, no!’

He steadied his legs into a firm stance and lifted the device. 

‘There is probably just as much work that goes into firing a gun, than landing your mark with a sword.’

With a sword, the damage was from whatever would be within your blades’ vicinity. A gun, it could be anyone in sight. 

His finger squeezed the trigger, and with a smoky pop, a pinecone burst into smithereens a ways off. 

‘Seems a rather easy way to kill someone with very little effort,’ you reprimanded with a shrug of your shoulder. 

‘Just because it’s easy, doesn’t mean you should automatically avoid it,’ Steve tried to explain before you interrupted. 

‘I think that’s precisely the point,’ you stated, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to hammer home your thoughts. ‘How can you feel like you’ve accomplished anything if you barely put in any work?’

‘Are you going to let me teach you or not?’ Steve sighed, slightly tired of your cantankerous attitude as he popped out a hip and shifted his weight into it. ‘I’m trying to do a nice thing here.’

Conceding, you smiled smugly before rolling your eyes. ‘Fine.’

‘Great,’ Steve grinned, pointing his outstretched finger towards your feet as he settled back into a role of importance, ‘now spread your legs.’

You looked at him pointedly before noticing he too was prepped in the sturdy position, as if he already knew you’d quip back with some smart remark. Reluctantly you copied. 

‘Now, straighten your arm out,’ he instructed, striding over as his hands hovered around you, ready to nudge and guide you into the right position. ‘Bit more,’ he patted the underside of your elbow before his palms spread up and down your arm. 

Your back was to him, a forethought you were exceedingly thankful for in the moment as a rush of heat shot through you from where his fingers skimmed you. 

‘Nice, right…’ he spoke again, your spine suddenly on fire as he lined himself up behind you. A palm outstretched alongside your raised arm, and long taut fingers next caged you in on your opposite hip. His boots shuffled in the grass around your ankles, kicking strands of meadow wheat down as he nestled closer, his breath dancing along your ear as he attempted to share your line of sight. 

For a moment in his proximity, with his smell, his warmth, his presence… you allowed yourself to indulge. 

A blind commoner could likely sense the charisma that the Prince oozed, and despite your best efforts, you exhaled in the realisation that you weren’t as immune as you pretended to be.

The polished handle of the gun then slipped into your hand, Steve’s hold on you tightening as he helped you adjust. His fingers splayed out over your hip, teetering along the border of your pelvis and instinctively your free hand rose to cup him there, to keep him in place as you pointedly readied your raised arm. 

‘Cock this back, yes…’ he explained, a shiny latch being pulled toward you until it clicked, ‘and then finger through here,’ he guided you as the crook of a finger tip balanced on the trigger. 

‘Then…’ his finger sliding alongside yours as you felt his breath hitch in your ear, ‘breathe in-’

You obliged, his chest puffing into the laced bodice of your dress as he settled impossibly closer, and then another whisper escaped, hot and low against your neck. 

‘Out… and squeeze.’

Your eyes blinked shut as a bang sounded from your palm, your fingers gripping and cupped by Steve’s and as you finally opened your eyes, another pinecone had disappeared from the log. 

‘Did you do that with your eyes closed?’ He asked incredulously, reluctantly stepping back as he eyed the woodland items through the faint smoke. 

‘It was loud,’ you replied instantly, unthinking. 

It had been loud. Not just the gun, but the blood roaring in your ears, the fire sizzling along your spine, the invisible bruises that his touch was searing into your skin. 

‘Don’t you use canons?’ He muttered mockingly, taking the pistol from your hold to reload it before lining himself up behind you once more as he tilted you towards another target.

A dimpled rock nestled against flaking wood was the next aim, and as Steve rose the pistol to point with the crook of your arm cradled as he guided you to the mark, the noise simmered in you again.

A noise that elicited something from deep within that you had long repressed, restrained, reserved for only one other. But Eddie was ignoring you, and Steve was here, whispering soft instructions against the shell of your ear as he coaxed out a blurring heat that overflowed from you. His words were filtered out by the incessant roar of your own fire, his fingers unknowingly prodding and stoking it with every ushered manoeuvre.

You hadn’t even registered the bang of gunpowder until smoke filled your sight, a small swallowed sound leaving you as a breath you were unwittingly holding escaped.

The Prince made no moves this turn, his arms and touch still against your form before you tilted your chin towards him, his eyes unwavering on your features.

‘What are you looking at?’ Your voice was measured, lips tight in fear of letting something slip, but Steve’s face was soft and open, and his hooded eyes dropped for a beat before he sighed.

‘Just checking you kept your eyes open that time.’

An equally measured tone from the Prince only confirmed your suspicions; that whatever you were trying to tamper down within you, he also seemingly battled within himself.

‘And?’ You tested a pout, Steve’s mouth twisting into a bitten grimace as you could see in his eyes how he toiled with either taking a small step back, or closing the distance and pinning you to him with his large hands and greedy lips.

He wavered, hovering in the air near your lips and for a second you willed for him to just lean forward and do it, before suddenly the trees erupted with a flock of beating wings, and the leaves rustled and shimmered around you both as the disturbance broke the spell.

The second nature of Royal etiquette funnelled through your bones, and instinctively you both parted, the air suddenly cold and sparse around your face.

‘Seems you did,’ Steve finally mustered, inhaling sharply before his eyes caught the wilting tree line, his boots leading him off for further foraging.

~ ~ ~

As soon as the cloak of night hung over the palace, you were scaling down the hill towards the bay. You knew the way now, hidden trails behind buildings so no one would notice the wandering Queen’s lady alone at night. You donned a thin cape too, hiding the royal clothes you were sworn to wore now, and as you neared a rowdy looking tavern, you pulled it tight around your neck.

You’d spoken to the young stable boy so often now, that you were confident enough of Eddie’s residence, walking across a square towards a two storey building that nestled above the blacksmiths. 

The bottom level was empty, bar for a simmering fire that had likely been left to sizzle out itself, and as you turned on the spot you finally took note of a figure that stood outside the noisy building, eyes locked on yours as you lifted your head.

Eddie.

Drunk Eddie, to be precise. 

You glided over, your initial delight at finally finding the boy washing away as he struggled to remove the scowl from his face. 

‘Hi,’ you panted, mouth open with a grin as he placed his goblet on top of a close bench.

‘What are you doing here?’ He grumbled, voice low and thick from drinking and shouting, your smile fading at the lack of welcome.

‘I’ve come to see you,’ you replied matter of factly, Eddie swaying on his feet as he sighed.

‘I told you not to bother.’

You ignored the pang in your chest at his disregard, pushing on as you glared up at him now.

‘Well I’m sorry for wanting to see my friend,’ you almost spat. You waited for Eddie to respond, his lips twisting into a grimace as you pressed on.

‘I haven’t seen you for what feels like an age.’

Silence continued to fill the space between you, followed by a huff which could only be interpreted as boredom as your hackles rose.

‘Hey!’ You finally snapped at his behaviour, a hushed whisper unleashed from you as blood bubbled up the back of your neck. ‘What is your problem?’ 

‘You’re getting too…’ Eddie started, biting his tongue as he attempted to find the right word, ‘-comfortable.’

‘Comfortable?’ Your eyebrows rose into your hairline in shock, your mind utterly disoriented from his chosen concern. ‘I’m the opposite.’

‘Fine, cosy then.’

You shook your head, fingers pinching your nose as you grappled with the accusation. ‘Cosy- What are you on about?’ 

‘Considering you have access to a palace that has a viewpoint of the entire horizon, you’re sure spending a lot of time away from it.’

Eddie’s lips had sucked themselves into a tight line, his entire demeanour stiff and unsure as he frowned at you.

‘Eddie this is my job, okay?’ You pleaded, tiredness gripping at you as you explained yourself. ‘I don’t like it, but this job is what’s allowing me to stay in that palace.’

‘Yeah, in the palace with Prince Steve.’

There it was. The pinnacle. The trigger. The point.

‘I’m working for his mother Eddie,’ you defended. ‘If she orders me to be with him, to protect him, I have to do so.’

Eddie’s eyes nearly rolled back into his skull. ‘Sure, protect him.’

‘Cut that out,’ you hissed, anger flaring in your eyes and on your tongue as Eddie finally met your gaze. His mouth twisted into a sneer, and for a split second it wasn’t your Eddie in front of you.

‘Since when do you follow orders anyway?’

‘I followed orders plenty under the Captain-‘

‘I meant orders from a Queen.’ His grip tightened on your arm as he rushed you around a corner, just away from the social business of the evening square, but close enough for him to keep a watchful eye on the tavern door.

‘You spent all of your childhood disobeying your mother, your father, why’s this kingdom suddenly different?’

You thought back to your family and how similar they were to this. Except while you had Eddie the stable hand, this family had Steve the Prince. You weren’t comparing them, but your hesitation snapped Eddie, his eyes darkening.

‘You’re supposed to be up there, looking out for a ship,’ he criticised, your sharp tongue moving before you could stop it.

‘And since when did you think it was a good idea to start reminding me of my duties?’ Your dagger eyes finally pierced him, as if he could physically see the nerve he had struck as he dropped his shoulders slightly.

‘I just worry you’re getting distracted,’ he tried again, voice softer now as if a calmer approach would help for you to see reason, but he had already lit the match. ‘You’re supposed to be up at the palace, keeping an eye on the horizon, looking out for a ship, while I’m down here, listening in for any news.’

‘And yet the only thing you seem to be keeping tabs on is the tavern.’

Instantly his manner changed. The slump of his shoulders you mistook for solace, now drooped in defeat. All hints of civility dripped away, and what remained stood as a drunk, old friend.

‘Careful…’ he spat, reeking of rum. ‘You’re almost sounding jealous.’

Never had Eddie had such a plentiful resource of booze. The limited supply on the ship was often rationed, but with a well stocked tavern within fumbling distance of his bed, and a penny’s salary that wasn’t being used to go towards anything else, he found a haven in the sticky, smoke ridden establishment. 

Yet while he had started to settle down amongst the townspeople - these land dwellers - he struggled to turn a blind eye to the way this place was changing you both.

Eddie could see the way the Palace was taking you in and swallowing you whole, not even bothering to mould you into a figure of their making before stealing your values, your responsibilities, your attention. 

And you could see the way Eddie was establishing himself in the bay; a well respected worker by day and a man of leisure at night, all manners of pleasantries being offered up to him just from him being himself. You couldn’t blame the people. Eddie was easy to love, and now as he lost himself in the ease of this lifestyle, you watched the threads of your ever intertwined friendship loosen, the frayed edges now all you had left to grab onto.

‘Maybe we should stop,’ Eddie mumbled, eyes falling back to you before taking a sharp breath in, as if preparing himself for something that had been dancing around his lips for too long. ‘Stop searching, stop waiting, just… stop.’

Your gaze widened, eyes darting between both of his, searching for what he was truly saying.

‘What?’

‘I’m tired,’ he sighed, his words heavy as he let them hang in the air between you both. He was giving up. And he was leaving you behind to do it.

You didn’t have a chance to respond, a girlish cry of Eddies name suddenly wafting in the breeze as the tavern door swung open.

Eddie’s fuzzy eyes had remained on you, taking in the way your mouth creased in surprise at the sight of the lady calling out for him. 

It was clear that whatever the original plan you two had, that metaphorical ship had seemingly sailed. The simplicity in which Eddie glanced the lady’s way, offering her an easy smile which she equally reciprocated, it was clear to all who could see the path he now chose.

Now you were all alone. 

‘Well I’ll let you get back to your evening then,’ you mustered, ignoring the way your voice wavered slightly or the way your vision was starting to blur. If Eddie saw it through the swaying vision of his own, he didn’t comment.

‘I was just joking,’ you had hoped he would say, ‘I’m sorry, let’s keep looking, together.’

But those words never came.

‘I- Yeah,’ he grumbled instead, clearing his throat as he turned to move away, ‘you too.’

With every step he took your resolve hardened, solidifying the broken friendship now as he walked away, leaving you behind, his attention stolen by everyone but you.

Never had you been able to imagine a moment where you would feel so little love for the boy…until now.

Chapter Text

You’d grown accustomed to missing the Lady’s dinners as of late, your allotted free time as soon as the Queen retired instantly filled with parchments and scribbles in the library, freely provided by your new close friend, the Prince.

‘A Queens lady should know her kingdom,’ he would say. You’d swallow a grimace and plaster on a fake smile of curiosity, feeding his ego as he continued to innocently help you. It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Bridget, Fanny and Constance that you were rarely sitting with them at evening meals, but the kitchen staff were none the wiser, wordlessly keeping the kitchen stores unlocked for you to roam freely when your body called for it.

Before long, you were spending any free moment in the library, researching the maps, scrolls and charts that Steve had found for you, the morning sun aiding you with scouring the seas while the afternoon quiet helped plot your escape.

Steve never knew that was your reasoning for the charts. Innocently he’d provided them and eagerly explained the nearby kingdoms. He understood that you were clearly of enough education to be able to read as a pirate, but he’d highly underestimated how far that education went, and the scrolls depicting nearby kingdoms - including those you’d plan to entirely avoid - were provided to you at will, spread out over desks like a banquet.

You’d already anticipated that without Eddie, keeping an eye on the bay’s movements would prove more difficult, but with the hidden passageways Steve had already highlighted to you over the past few weeks, you were determined to find another one to leave the palace. 

At first, the cove that Steve had taken you to had been a point of interest, but if mermaid’s roamed those waters no ship would dare go near - pirate or dingy.

You’d then considered even fleeing on land if you could find a nearby port, but the shape of the island proved difficult to find another place to set sail, and begrudgingly you continued to scour your maps for clues or hints as to how you could escape these Kingdom’s lines.

The soft moonlight had shunted you from the table, the dwindling light setting you on track to the kitchens. The soft thump of your day heeled boots clicked along the corridor tiles, and as you returned with a plate of fruits, breads and cheeses, your attention diverted to a nearby balcony, overlooking the night sky and hidden bay.

You’d barely had a chance to return to your quarters today, the corset and ridiculous frills from your day attire forcing you to slump against the chiselled limestone, as you leisurely picked at your food.

A cool mist had been churned up by the sea, sitting thick and moody in the crevice of the mountain, shrouding the likely bustling bay below. The refreshing night air kissed your cheeks, and as you popped a grape into your mouth, you tilted your head towards the unmistakeable slaps of the Prince’s slippers. 

‘Your skulking needs some work,’ you teased, pointedly looking at his shoes as he sheepishly shrugged. 

‘No use trying to sneak up on you is there?’ He said, settling next to you as he glanced at your plate. You nudged it towards him, silently allowing him to have some, his lips lifting with appreciation.

‘Thanks,’ he spoke, low and hoarse as he slid a cracker off the plate.

You’d been quieter the past few days, the real reason for your reservation still unknown to Steve, and as far as you were aware, he’d still not realised the relationship you held to Eddie - or, past relationship.

Cluelessly, the Prince continued to feed your budding need to escape, lending you a fully stocked library and simply thinking that you had finally resigned to understanding your new home.

Foolish as it was, you were forever indebted to his clear ignorance.

‘Seen any ships lately?’ Steve lightly teased. Evidently he did not take what you had last said in your quarters seriously, and still clung to the idea that you had settled here, and made peace with it.

Just like Eddie had.

‘None that could survive the South Sea,’ you answered honestly. Small trading boats often came in and out of the harbour, but never any large enough to withstand the waves you intended to get back to.

‘I see,’ Steve sighed apprehensively.

The plate of food soon cleared, and wordlessly you remained leaning against the stone wall, eyeing up the horizon as Steve simply copied.

‘What about that ship?’ He said, pointing at a thin mast that crested the moist night fog in the distance. You continued to watch, a chill slithering down your spine as the swirls soon parted, and a stem of black sails broke free. ‘That one big enough?’

‘Steve…’ his name fell loosely from your lips.

‘What?’ He looked at you, a laugh dying on his tongue at your sudden change. ‘Is it big enough?’

Your face had drained of its usual colour, but Steve mistook your reaction for glee - that this ship was in fact big enough, and this was your moment to take off and sail away from this island. Your stare remained locked on the sails as they glided closer inland, and his heart began to plummet.

‘Mae, what’s-‘

‘Pirates.’ With just the one word he could read you now. All summer you’d been vocal about your disinterest in staying, but now as a pirate ship finally came to town you were… hesitant?

‘I take it… they’re not your pirates?’ His words came out carefully as you shook your head vehemently, eyes finally tearing from the sea to look at Steve. 

‘I never crewed under those black sails,’ the words sitting sour on your tongue as realisation swamped Steve and his stomach sank, fear finally gripping him. 

‘And these ones belong to…?’

‘Blackbeard.’ His lips rounded into a clueless pout as you rolled your eyes. ‘Didn’t your mother tell you any bedtime stories as a child?’

‘Bedtime stories are just that…’ he all but argued, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, ‘stories.’

‘Yeah well, stories have to have some form of inspiration. Nothing quite like real life,’ you huffed, turning to step away before a spark in the distance stopped you. A small orange flicker that suddenly burst with greed, coating anything it touched as flames scoured along the bay.

Roof after roof started to blaze, the sound of windows shattering from the heat heard high up in the mountain, and just as the warning bells started to swing, a booming cannonball fired into the tower, the crumbling brick and metal collapsing into a heap.

The destruction from Blackbeards crew was swift and practiced, and as the bay below woke to the damage, your feet were already leading you both away from the ledge, your fingers instinctively reaching for Steve’s as you dragged him away. ‘We have to warn the palace.’

~ ~ ~

‘Ma’am,’ you touched the Queen’s shoulder, nudging her from her slumber as Steve stood next to you. ‘Your majesty, you must wake up.’

Your voice rose at the end, a stuttered breath coming from the sleeping royal as she roused from her sleep.

‘What in the heavens is going on?’ She started to protest, blinking her eyes open as she took in her still dark room with nighttime windows.

‘Mother we have to go,’ Steve announced, her head turning at the sound of her son as it calmed her for a breath. ‘The bay is under attack, and we have to leave.’

The bluntness to his words stirred something in her, and without a second thought she was pushing herself onto to her feet, slipping into a large tapestry cloak that hung nearby.

‘How can this be?’ She uttered breathlessly, and before you could bare to see the look on her face as Steve explained it to be pirates you quickly announced that you’d fetch the other ladies.

Without Steve in tow it was easier to run without consequence, not fully caring about the great slaps of your shoes as you thundered down the corridors. By the time you reached the other ladies quarters, all neatly lining one corridor, your fists started to bang on the nearest door.

‘Wake up!’ You yelled through the wood, running to the next as you knocked harshly on that too. ‘Girls get up!’

A lock clicked across the way, and as the third door opened, a disgruntled Constance peered through the darkened crack.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ She groaned, rubbing her eyes as you turned to her.

‘Constance, get dressed and get up.’

‘It’s the middle of the night-‘ she complained, voice hardening as she woke gradually.

‘Mae?’ Fanny called out, her door now opening at the sound of voices in the corridor, Bridget’s following suit too.

‘Fanny,’ you smiled, trying to coax the young girl under your urgency. ‘We have to go. Get dressed.’

‘I’m not sure who put you in charge…’ Constance started, her door now swung fully open as she leaned against the door frame, ‘but why the hell would we take orders from you?’

‘Because I’m trying to save your life,’ you smiled sarcastically, eyeing the annoyance as her back straightened at the statement.

‘What’s going on?’ Bridget’s voice now broke through, a sturdy tone that you heavily welcomed in the moment.

‘The bay is under attack,’ you stated calmly, ‘and you all need to get dressed so we can leave. Now come on.’

Instantly Bridget and Fanny ran back to their rooms, roped gowns shuffled over their night clothes as they now joined you in the cold, stony corridor. When you turned back to Constance, you weren’t half surprised to see her in the same, relaxed position.

‘Constance!’ Bridget scorned, visibly annoyed now at her defiance. 

‘No.’

‘No?’ You repeated, turning to her now as the moonlight shrouded your face. 

‘No, I think she’s lying. I think it’s a trick.’ Your eyes couldn’t roll back any further even if you tried.

‘Why in the seven kingdoms would I play a trick on you in the middle of the night, that involves these two as well, huh?’ Your head jutting over your shoulder. ‘They don’t deserve that-‘

‘Yes well you are just a dirty pirate after all, aren’t you?’ She sneered, the challenge in her eyes missed as blood boiled into your vision.

‘You want to blame this on pirates? Okay how about the ones swarming the bay as we speak?’ You spoke plainly, eyes glued to Constance as you noticed a glimmer cross her face.

‘Mae?’ Bridget called out, but you refused to lose the attention you finally held from the girl in front of you.

‘We are under attack Constance.’

‘You don’t know that,’ she hissed, voice a little quieter than usual but with the same spiteful tone clinging to it.

‘So I didn’t just watch a fleet of black sails pull up into the bay, and set everything on fire?’ You stated within one measured breath.

For once, she remained silent.

‘Get dressed, and get out here,’ you told her for a final time, stepping back into the corridor as the door hovered on its hinges. She grumbled, sliding back into her room with a huff before reappearing in a velvet robe too.

‘I still don’t understand why it’s you who is waking us,’ she complained, uncertainty lacing her tone as if she still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. ‘Surely the palace guard would have raised the bells by now?’

‘The bell tower is always the first to fall,’ you claimed matter of factly. ‘And I’m the one waking you because I’m trying to save your asses.’

‘And she’s working under the orders of her Queen.’ You didn’t even hear her royal slippers announce her arrival.

‘Your majesty,’ Constance swallowed, everyone but you suddenly dropping into a bow as you stared at the Queen, with Steve smirking beside her.

‘Constance, I’d expect you’d be more grateful for someone who is trying to, as they say, save your ass,’ the Queen cautioned, her sleepy attire drenched in expensive silks now, which seemed to only boost her regal status.

‘Of course Ma’am.’

The distant rumble of canon fire had the hairs on your neck stand to attention, and as if the same static had charged up Steve, he was stepping forward - straight backed and focused.

‘We should make our way to the carriages,’ he suggested, hand gently touching his mothers elbow as she nodded at him.

‘Good idea.’

‘I’ll go find father,’ he added, skipping away from the group before casting a final glance at his mother, ‘will you be alright?

‘I have Mae,’ the Queen said with a certainty that left no room for further questions. ‘Of course I’ll be alright.’

Soft smiles spilled into the space as the ink of smoke crept up the mountain, singeing the moment with an acridness. 

‘Go to the North wing,’ Steve explained, eyeing you as you nodded in agreement. He was turning on his heel before he yelled once more over his shoulder. ‘We’ll meet you there!’

‘Everyone ready?’ You surveyed the group, the gaggle of sleep ridden ladies in their covered nightgowns shuffling behind you as you set off down the hall. ‘Let’s go.’

The palace corridors were stone quiet, empty and cold, a complete opposite to the hot mess the bay below sat in. You continued to run down the marble floors with the four women behind you, and it was by the fifth corridor with an open ledge that you got to witness the state the bay currently was in.

The town now sat sunken and ablaze, the glow stealing everyone’s attention as it came into view, running now halted as you glanced down at once was a rich, bustling bay.

‘Gods,’ the Queen cursed under her breath, a thickness to her voice that sat deep in sadness.

‘We have to keep moving,’ you urged, stepping back from the balcony in hopes of coaxing them all to safety.

‘Why would they do this?’ Fanny looked at you, tears flushing her cheeks as she stared at you with genuine quandary. It had you stopping in your tracks, a shifting of weight as you neared her.

‘For some pirates, the sea isn’t enough,’ you answered honestly. ‘Some get greedy,’ you pointed at the bay, ‘and some come ashore.’ Your monotonous tone held an absoluteness to it that squashed any challenge - no matter what they saw you as, under no circumstances had you ever been a pillaging pirate.

You half anticipated for Constance to ignore your hidden warning, to take the bait and rile herself up. But as you surveyed the group, noticing the pain on everyone’s faces, Constance’s stood out the most - as if her own personal secret sat fat and juicy in her heart, eating away at her from the inside. Guilt. 

‘Come on,’ you stressed tightly, taking off down the hall before you heard their footsteps join you.

The luck of solitude was soon cast away after you started to reach the outer levels of the palace, the angry bustling of a pirate crowd sounding down a hollow hallway.

‘In here,’ you guided the women, opening the door to a hidden storage cupboard as you ushered them in side.

‘We need to keep moving,’ Constance panicked now, eyes widening as you flung the door open. 

‘No, you need to hide until the path is clear,’ you said as you shoved her inside.

‘But they’re going to find us!’

‘Constance,’ you finally spat, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. ‘For once in your miserable life, will you please shut the fuck up and listen?’

The stunned silence that followed was answer enough as you stepped back and exhaled.

‘Thank you,’ you sighed, before slamming the door closed. The swish of your dagger twirling in the air sliced the pending quiet as you waited for the gurgling roar of angry pirates. 

Their bodies didn’t remain standing for long once they stumbled upon you, heavily slumping to the floor after a few hefty minutes of stabbing and screaming and slashing.

You reopened the door to the terrified ladies with a groan, the grumbling charge of further groups heading up the hill hurriedly rushing everyone out. Fanny’s eyes locked onto the blood splatters that now stained your bodice, and you grabbed her hand and stared into her welling eyes.

‘Eyes on me and don’t let go,’ you nodded, your grip tightening on the dripping dagger hidden in your other hand as Fanny bobbed her head, everyone running with swishing skirts once more.

By the time you reached the North Wing after what felt like a tiring age, Steve and his father the King were already waiting. Upon you all scurrying down the corridor, Steve’s gaze was quick to latch onto you, stepping forward on instinct.

‘What happened…’ He started to ask, finally noticing your disheveled state, ‘why are- is that blood?’

‘I’m fine,’ you swallowed, ‘we just ran into some pirates.’

‘She was splendid my love,’ the Queen uttered as she neared her husband, a large door hidden behind a rich curtain being peeled back by the king as he ushered his wife and the girls towards its entrance.

‘Are you okay?’ Steve uttered, the sound of the squeaking door doing little to distract him from you as his hands lifted to your cheeks.

‘I’m fine,’ you smiled, the softness of his hands melting the harshness of your voice as you looked up at him. ‘Really-‘

The clatter of swords and clumsy footsteps barrelled from a nearby corridor, your head turning at the sound as you started to step towards it. You were at the end of the corridor before Steve called out for you, momentarily stunned you were running towards the danger.

‘Mae-‘

‘Go!’ You yelled, casting a final glance, short nod and tight smile at Steve. ‘I’ve got it, I’ll distract them.’

‘I’m coming with you,’ Steve tried to follow before you threw up your hand.

‘No, get out. Make sure you all reach the carriages.’

You were running around the corner before he could reach and stop you.

The first group you came across traipsed through the trashed vases and sculptures they’d knocked over on their journey. Rotting teeth decorating their grimacing smiles as you swallowed thickly at the sight.

‘’ello missy,’ a short stout leader drawled out, eyes darkening as they latched on you. Your spine smothered an uncomfortable squirm as you sighed.

‘How original,’ you tutted under your breath, the dagger twirling in your grip before you charged forward.

At some point between the third and fourth lump of a man, the blazing torch held in one of their grubby hands fell to the floor. The flames latched onto a flapping curtain, saturating the royal colours with a heavy orange blaze as it tore itself up into the arched ceiling.

Flashing heat churned around you, and as a torched tassel fluttered towards you, a nearby graceless oaf knocked your dagger free from your sweltering hold.

His stare latched onto yours, your feet backtracking to cooler ground before suddenly Steve pelted from behind. He immediately yanked two swords off the walls, chucking one your way before you sliced and diced your way free through the group, Steve now tailing and clearing any stragglers.

‘You never listen,’ you lightly scolded, before the crumbling curtain began to disintegrate around you, and you lunged for your dagger on the floor. You quickly darted away from the ignited corridor, the chilly moon soothing your cheeks as you rounded a dark corridor, fumbling the hilt of your dagger back into your belt.

‘What are you doing here?’ You panted, gaping at Steve and his furrowing brows as you stole a moment in the darkness.

‘I was helping you,’ he stated, his signature smirk hidden on his lips as he refused to take his gaze off of you.

‘Respectfully, I had it covered.’

‘Well respectfully, I’m choosing to ignore that statement.’

Your lips thinned into a tight line as you sucked them against your teeth, studying Steve as he fidgeted under the scrutiny.

‘What about your parents?’ You added. ‘You could still catch the carriages.’

He was shaking his head before you’d finished. ‘The carriages left.’

‘But-‘

‘I chose to stay with you,’ he spoke lowly, stepping closer now as his thumb instinctively swiped a splatter of blood from your cheek. 

‘That’s a ridiculous idea,’ you scoffed lightly, no real ridicule lacing your words as you fought against the urge to release a giddy smile at the attention. Steve merely copied the facade with equal strength.

His lips pouted, the beginning of a joke fleeting from his lips. ‘And yet-‘

A dusty boom sounded at your side, your feet lifting from the ground as you flew through the air, the marble floor suddenly rising to meet you. A throbbing pain yelled behind your eyes, and as they squinted open, the vision was marred by smoke and fire. An incessant whine clung to your ears, ringing out loud and true as your body wobbled under the weight of your wrists.

Steve’s wild hair parted the smog, a bleeding cut on his forehead dribbling into the creases on his face as his mouth moved in front of you. His face was speaking at you, lips opening and closing at impressive speed as his eyes widened at your lack of movement.

You were in your own bubble for but a moment, nothing piercing you; no sight, no smell, no sound.

And then as if it had popped everything came rushing back all at once.

‘-ae,’ Steve’s voice trickled through, his hands grabbing your shoulders as he hoisted you up. ‘Mae!’

‘Yeah, yeah m’fine,’ you groaned, your feet finding the ground as you were pulled upright.

Chunks of white stone crumbled along the ceiling, cascading down as you and Steve ran through the corridors of the collapsing palace, winding down hidden passageways that lead you towards the outer walls.

The north wing was likely all but cinders now, the fire you escaped catching and spreading on the wind, so escaping through the mountain was no longer an option. With the bay ablaze, and boats off limits, the cove was not safe either. As the palace continued to be sprinkled by canons, the structure itself pulverised under its own weight, more and more passageways being cut off from the destruction, and the pirates you dodged where possible.

A flurry of footsteps were soon heard around an upcoming corner, the soft thumps echoing about as you slowed your pace, Steve almost running into the back of you as you pushed the both of you against the inner wall.

The handles of your swords and dagger sat firmly in your fingers, and as the rough looking group finally rounded the corner your weapons rose in an instant, reeling back to spear them before they suddenly turned to you, the leaders face softening with familiarity.

‘Pete?’ You murmured, the confusion in your tone stopping Steve from stepping closer, his eye shooting to you instead.

‘What in the hells are you doing ere missy?’ Pete responded, a giant grin taking over his face as his own sword dropped to his hip. ‘You gone rogue or sumin?’

‘It’s a long story,’ you couldn’t help but chuckle breathlessly, your almost perfect dialect faltering for a moment, the thick accent of the pirate before you affecting your lilt before you could register. 

‘What’s going on?’ Steve chimed in, the gleeful reunion dimming at his interruption. ‘Who are they?’

‘They’re my crew Steve… now put that down before you poke someone’s eye out,’ you all but tutted as you tilted his sword away from the pirates it was still pointing at.

‘I thought you said these weren’t your pirates?’ He declared.

‘Blackbeard isn’t,’ you replied pointedly. ‘These are.’

Steve wasn’t given the chance to question them further before Pete started talking again.

‘Heard news there was some sort’a treasure ere. Tried to grab us a piece ourselves,’ his voice dropping into an affectionate hush as he looked at you. ‘Ne’er expected to see you again.’

‘So you have no idea what Blackbeard is after?’ You eyed up the group, Steve watching you intently as you thickly swallowed, a secret fat on your tongue. 

‘One port said it was treasure, ‘nother gold. One even said it were a woman!’ Pete chuckled.

‘A princess,’ Dickie corrected with a tilt of his head.

‘Why are they after a princess here?’ Steve couldn’t help but ask. ‘There’s no princesses in this kingdom for miles.’

‘Just what’s ’eard,’ Pete shrugged, not too bothered by precisely what the treasure was they were here to sought, only that it must be valuable if it had taken Blackbeard’s interest. His eyes suddenly dropped to your dress, the usual neat frills and silks wildly out of place and stained given its current condition, but the attire itself was more that what disturbed Pete.

‘What in hells are you wearing?’ He grumbled, eliciting a dry sigh from you.

‘Again, long story Pete.’

The floor shook under the impact of a nearby blast, and Steve’s fingers found their way gingerly round your wrist.

‘We should get going.’

‘Where did you anchor?’ You asked Pete, ignoring Steve who’s touch felt a little too hot.

‘Round the cove pet. Blackbeard didn’t even see us join ‘im,’ Pete boasted, chest puffing slightly.

‘The mermaid cove?’ You clarified, Dickie’s back straightening.

‘Didn’t see no mermaids there,’ he explained.

‘Do you think that passageway is still intact?’ You asked, turning to Steve now, who simply nodded mindlessly.

‘Uh… yeah, should be. It’s far enough out from the palace.’

‘Right then,’ you determined, flashing Pete a smile. ‘We’ll join you.’

‘Uh-‘ Steves grip tightened momentarily on your skin, the tug barely there as you physically felt him stiffen.

‘Noth’n survives Blackbeard’s canons son,’ Pete spoke, eyeing Steve carefully.

‘Well we’ll meet you in the cove then,’ Dickie said, starting to walk further down the corridor on his mission before Steve put his hand up.

‘If you’re after a princess, there isn’t one here. And the treasure would be all but locked away or blown to smithereens by now,’ Steve tried to reason, strands of his hair falling over his features. ‘Trust me, the palace has been falling apart behind us.’

A somber look fell on the group of pirates blocking your path before Pete pointedly turned to you once again.

‘S’that true?’ He asked as you nodded in response.

‘Mhmm.’

‘Well then,’ Pete huffed, pausing for a moment in thought, ‘back we go then lads.’

As you all turned back down the corridors, Pete quickly limped into step with you.

‘Who is he again?’ He jutted his head at Steve who had been roped into a colourful conversation with Dickie. You couldn’t help but giggle.

‘It’s a long story Pete,’ you whispered before you all began to run.

~ ~ ~

The moon was barely a dim dot in the sky by the time you made it to the outer walls, the thick smoke from the nearby burning flowers swamping the night sky into a murky grey, as the royal gardens sat in orange cinders. Steve had managed to lead you through most of the palace, new passageways cloaking the group as you popped out a doorway, and as you pelted down a long terrace, a familiar unmarked curtain sat askew at the end.

‘It’s just up ahead-‘ Steve called out, your crew running forward in excitement. The ground was quick to jolt however when a nearby cannonball flew into the pillar by your side, the stone shattering as the ceiling began to groan.

‘Get back,’ Steve yelled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he hoisted you out of the way of the falling debris. ‘Keep going!’ he coughed through the smoke, a feeble cough on the other side of the rubble calling back.

‘At th’cove pet!’

‘Meet you there!’ You confirmed, you and Steve backtracking from your route as the path blocked up with falling stone and dust.

His hand slipped into yours on instinct now, the urgent tug between you both as you ran down hall after hall, past burning bushes and scorched shrubs, garden after garden whipping past your ankles as you hurried down the mountain side. 

Your stolen swords and dear dagger sat cinched in your corsets and belts, clinking against your every step as your free hands hovered near the hilt, ready to grab in case you came across anyone unsavoury.

The palace frame was barely holding, the broad masts that shouldered the brunt of its weight creaking under the strain after strike after strike after strike.

Despite all that your gut was telling you, that running towards the danger was not safe, you and Steve continued on down, the gravelled path skidding beneath your slippers as you trekked down the hill. With the palace passages completely inaccessible now, the only way to reach your crew, your boat… was towards the sounds of the screams that floated up the slope.

Your eyes watered against the stinging heat that met you as you reached the lower levels of the gardens, the large weeping willow in the corner swishing with the churned warmth that carried on the wind from the town on fire below.

The galloping hooves of nearing horses catches your attention, your fingers tightening on the brass of your new sword as it shunted an inch, and as the sound pounded closer the smoke soon parted to reveal a mess of black curls on the back of a large white mare, a chestnut steed tethered to its side.

Steve’s grip had instinctively tightened around your wrist as they approached, your face lighting up as you tugged yourself free with little force, Steve’s concern whirring. The rider eyed Steve carefully, silently questioning what he was still doing here with you as he steadied the fretting horse beneath him with an assured ease.

‘Eddie!’ You gasped, elation pricking your eyes as you rushed to meet him. 

His curly hair whipped in the breeze, wild and untamed as his smile burst through; a tight lipped, dimpled smirk he would sometimes muster.

‘Come on princess,’ he grinned, chucking the reins of the horse at his side over to you, before you automatically passed them along to Steve who’d stepped close.

‘You know this man?’ Steve asked, eyebrows furrowing as he hastily took the reins from you. You nodded eagerly, reaching your hand out before Eddie grabbed your wrist, hoisting you onto the back of his horse.

‘Eddie’s my crew,’ you stated simply, settling behind him as you both watched the prince hoist himself into the saddle, ‘and he’s with us,’ you explained to Eddie now, nodding at Steve as he straightened up.

‘Whatever you say,’ Eddie grumbled, your arms wrapping around his torso with a calming familiarity as he clicked his tongue and nudged his heels into the belly of the horse beneath you.

‘Pete’s here,’ you got out, your voice muffled into the smoky material of Eddies shirt as the horse began to move, ‘rest of the crew too.’

‘They’re here with Blackbeard?’ Eddie asked, tilting his head slightly so you could hear him clearer.

‘No,’ you defended them, arms unconsciously tightening around Eddies front. ‘Just after whatever treasure he’s interested in.’

‘A princess,’ Steve called out, siding up to you both as you winded out of the garden path, ‘they said Blackbeard’s here for a princess.’ 

‘Is that so…’ you heard Eddie mutter under his breath with a click his tongue against his teeth, back stiffening at the mention before they started to canter down the hill.

It took barely any time racing down the mountainside on horseback, the pained cries of the bays buildings and its people meeting you far too quickly. Shattered barrels littered the streets, while pirates pillaged and rioted through the blaze with roaring glee. Eddie refused to slow down, barging through the small dirty crowds of raiders as he galloped towards the ocean, Steve close behind as they soared through the mess.

It was only when the air was choked with dust and soot did they slow a little, the night sky smothered by burning ash shrouding the moonlight as the heat of burning buildings scorched your cheeks.

‘Our ship’s anchored in the next cove over,’ you told Eddie, his grip faltering for a moment on the reins as you noticed. 

‘Don’t suppose you know any more secret tunnels to the cove?’ You asked Steve, Eddies head turning hopefully only to catch the prince shake his head.

‘None that I know of in the bay.’

‘So we need a boat,’ Eddie confirmed, the horses hooves beating into the earth with every trot as he steered you towards the docks. The buildings towering either side of you soon gave way, the path opening up into what once was the lively market square.

‘It should be easy to row with three of us,’ you started to explain, voice rising at the sound of the murky market square whispering either side of you. ‘It’s only around the-‘ you yelped out before you disappeared off the back of the horse, a rope around your dangling ankle yanking you to the ground as a clammer swallowed you up into the smoke.

‘Mae!’ Eddie yelled now, wrenching the reins to the side as he turned around on the spot.

The smoke danced with greys and yellows, swirling with every movement and dance that was happening within it. Clashing metal rung out across the space, and Eddie was leaping off of his horse before Steve had managed to utter a word.

Wordlessly the smog enveloped him too, pained grunts now joining your tired cries as Steve simply shuffled awkwardly off of his horse. He swallowed thickly, every fibre in his body urging him to run in and help you both, but his sense was too strong, and he froze on the spot.

An almighty explosion sounded across the square, the heat from the blast burning away the swaddling smoke surrounding you all. Shadows lit up, faces cleared, the dull void stripped away until two figures stood strong.

Limp bodies littered the ground, and as you and Eddie danced together, Steve was entranced by the vision. You looked like smoke demons, dragged from the depths of hell as your blood stained hair moved with the wind of combat.

Steve didn’t even notice the battlefield had stretched to him now, the square brightened enough by the recent cannonball fire that he’d attracted the attention of a lonesome raider. He managed to unsheathe his sword and wrench itself between him and his attacker. A gurgled grin escaped the pirate as his rusted axe clanged against Steve’s silver sword, and with each swinging blow Steve managed to dart and deflect, long enough before an equally shiny sword suddenly poked out between the pirates chest.

His face froze in pain, limbs stiff before he slid off the pointed end, revealing a panting princess behind. 

‘Come on,’ you breathed, fingers damp from blood slipping into his hold as you dragged him away from the scene, following Eddie as he traversed concealed paths to the ocean with you in tow.

The bay hummed in a melody of carnage behind you, fading only slightly after you fumbled into a rickety rowing boat and paddled out onto the lapping waves, swiftly out of view and into the darkness. 

A battle cry yawned across the town, deep as a horn and sharp as a scream when a dark figure stretched off of Blackbeard’s perched ship, and as you rounded the cliffside with heaving gasps, you witnessed as the raging bay began to splutter into the ransacked cove it would now collapse into. A crumbling kingdom left with little spark, as its leaders and people fled.

The sky was a dusty green by the time you reached the ship, a new sun just cresting beneath the horizon as you were hauled on deck. Plumes of smoke doused the mountain line against the lightening sky as the cliffside sat encapsulated in a spherical haze. The once pristine palace etched into the ridge now lay peppered with canon fire, and the treacle thick air blinded the bay beneath it.

As the crew steered towards calmer waters, Steve stayed at the end of the ship, watching as all he ever knew blanched into a foggy outline - as his kingdom shattered to ashes.

Chapter Text

Dusty sunlight streamed onto Steve’s face as he awoke with the gentle rocking of his hammock. The ship had come alive around him, and his sleeping form had been left alone, deep within the hull of the ship in a dark corner. 

His sea legs were yet to catch up with him, and as he fumbled out of his flimsy hammock, he swayed inelegantly along the lower deck. The crew was busy, the hearty flapping of a gusting wind in the upper sails hurrying them upward, and by the time Steve finally reached the main deck, he gaped at the operation in place. 

A few of the crew were dotted among the sails, many scrubbing the deck or checking the knots, and slowly Steve reached the helm, a voice he’d come to greatly adore wafting to him among the salty breeze.

‘I’m surprised she’s still in one piece,’ you chuckled, eyeing Pete with an admiration Steve had rarely seen on you. In fact, the only time he’d mildly caught it was when you had interacted with Eddie on the few occasions he’d witnessed, who just so happened to be diligently by your side near the helm too.

‘We did fine before you joined us missy, we can do fine without ya,’ Pete croaked, Steve finally cresting the upper deck as he clocked a few other crew mates around. It was almost like this was a meeting, one he wasn’t privy to - a surreal experience indeed. 

‘Although I think I speak f’all when I say we much prefer you with us pet.’

Your cheeks dimpled at the grin that took over, a warmth glossing over you as you cast each of them a kind look; a look that Steve craved as he stared at you. 

It was strange at first to see this creature before him, so utterly relaxed. The usual pinned up hair style that Bridget had no doubt thrust upon you was gone, and in its place sat a wild mess of curls, knotted from the sea breeze and wild from its lack of structure.

Steve had become accustomed to the orderly sight of you most days, the odd strands of hair flicking free only after a fight, or awaiting bed. Steve had only really seen your hair down once when under the shadows of the moon and flitting candlelight, and now with it down, boundless and free… never had he seen it gleam so brightly under a midday sun.

The corset from your dress had been laced over a billowing shirt, and some rustic pants draped down your legs as your laced boots remained firmly knotted around your ankles. From what Steve had gathered, no doubt the rest of your dismembered evening gown would be fashioned into some other pants or a vest later on.

He was enthralled. You were elegant, and free, and everything he wished to touch and own and possess.

‘I prefer that too,’ your voice carried. You sounded relieved, and an ugly regret swirled in Steve’s chest as he realised how ill advised it would be to interrupt - your captor intruding on the family reunion.

He couldn’t even recall if he’d been introduced to those surrounding you yet. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even remembered falling asleep last night. The smoke and dust from the cannons and gunfire had muddled his mind so much, that the persistent throb of a headache was quick to put him down. You’d been swift to shuffle him below deck last night, pointing out the swaying hammocks with a tired yawn as you immediately strode over to one that seemed to be well equipped with your belongings - as if this family never really believed they’d lost you, and had simply looked after your bed until you returned.

The creak of Steve’s weight on a wooden plank attracted your attention before he had a chance to retreat, the crew now turning their heads and getting a good look of the new member that had quietly joined last night.

Steve cleared his throat, his shoulders squaring for a moment as if ready to introduce himself, before you cocked your head, and shouted his way.

‘Morning Steve, get your beauty sleep?’

The laughter and guffaw that up-roared from your mates unsettled him for a moment, before the twinkle in your eyes calmed the twisting and invited him over instead.

‘I slept well, thank you,’ Steve replied through a tight lipped smile.

‘What did y’think of the hammocks?’ Pete grinned proudly, an albeit nervous nod rising from Steve as he attempted to appear enthusiastic.

‘They’re… very pleasant.’

‘Can’t be as pleasant as a feather down mattress though,’ Eddie mumbled under his breath, not nearly quiet enough for the prince to not hear, and not nearly with enough effort to make it seem sincere.

‘Ed’s,’ you shushed him, slapping his chest with the back of your hand as he huffed at the impact.

‘No he’s … he’s right,’ Steve chuckled, hoping his higher spirits would lighten the crew scowling around him. ‘There’s a lot of royal comforts I’m now without so just… let me know where I can help out.’

An uncomfortable silence swallowed the deck, awkward glances cast around the crew before they suddenly burst out in laughter once more, led by Pete. 

‘He’s funny pet,’ he smiled your way, your own grin matching theirs as Steve tried to make sense with what was happening.

He was offering help - why weren’t they grateful?

‘Alright back to work, the lot of’ya!’ Pete yelled, movement swarming the deck in an instant as Steve watched as the crew smirked his way, unreadable expressions regarding whether they be in jest or ire.

The whirlwind in his mind had him honing in on you, and as he watched Pete and Eddie remain at your side, he once again felt this unfamiliar feeling… inadequacy.

‘Want me to start on the runners like usual?’ You asked Pete, his eyes softening imperceptibly as he looked at you again.

‘But yer a wom’n,’ he replied, as if this was suddenly a factor in his decision making on how to run the ship.

‘I have always been a woman Pete, but thank you for that astute observation.’

‘But y’look like one now,’ he vaguely gestured to the billowing material around your embroidered corset, holding everything in place. ‘Y’ve… grown up.’

‘Just because you’ve seen me in a frock, does not mean I should be tasked with different duties,’ you stated, visibly annoyed by how a new outfit had you perceived. ‘Now put me to work.’

‘Alright, alright,’ Pete sighed, instructing you both tasks as you nodded in agreement.

‘What about me?’ Steve finally asked, catching your eye as Eddie struggled to hide his laughter. ‘And what is so funny-‘

‘They just, um…’ you started, stepping towards the prince to place a calming palm to his chest. It was astonishing how such a simple touch pacified him. ‘I don’t think they really believe that you can be of help.’

The corners of your lips had turned down in a feigned smile, one that didn’t reach you fully and for a brief pause, Steve witnessed on your face something he truly regretted. 

Pity. Shame. He was a burden, and the onus had fallen to you.

‘I know how to take orders alright,’ he tried, hoping his enthusiasm would quell you, but all it seemed to do was make you rise to meet the challenge.

‘Oh really?’ Your eyebrows arched, clearly not believing him.

‘Of course,’ Steve scoffed, as if working on a ship could really be that hard.

‘Alright then,’ a smirk lifted your spirits, your head tilting around Steve as you yelled across the deck. ‘Benji!’

A young boy, likely just cresting adolescence stepped over, smiling at you as you patted his shoulder.

‘Steven here is under your command,’ you stated.

‘-it’s Steve actually,’ he tried to interject, hating the way his formal name rolled off your tongue in that instant, and the fact you were parring him off to a child.

‘Check he knows how to do a bowline.’

‘A bowline?’ Steve muttered.

‘Knots,’ Eddie added from the side, clearly enjoying the delegation of responsibility far too much. 

‘Every pirate must know their knots,’ you smiled at him, swaying away as Eddie slapped his shoulder in an overly zealous greeting.

‘Welcome to the crew.’

~ ~ ~

You were quite literally sewn into the fabric of the ship, of the crew. Everywhere Steve looked, parts of you appeared. The subtle brown thread flowers sewn over knee patches, the way the crew turned their heads in admiration at the sound of your voice… it was evident how well suited you were to this life at sea.

Only as the sun was sinking into the ocean was Steve finally able to locate you.

It was easy for you to hide on the ship. This was your home, and the prince held no advantage here like he had when he’d searched for you in his palace. 

After a day of knotting ropes and scrubbing wood, sitting perched high among the sails wasn’t unusual for you, and as an evening breeze nipped at your bare shins, your gaze latched onto the horizon, grounding yourself among the wobbling poles and flapping sails.

Steve had craned his head back to catch your silhouette against the darkening sky, hands on his hips as he debated how to reach you.

‘Just let ‘er be,’ Pete croaked from the side, Steve’s head snapping back as he looked over. ‘She’s jus’a monkey.’

‘Excuse me?’ Steve asked, lips twisting into a frown as he stared at Pete, who’s own gappy grin remained hooked on your swinging legs high above. 

‘Poor girl s’been cooped up all these moons,’ he continued. ‘Gods she loves t’climb she does. Pro’lly the free’st she’s felt all summer lad.’

Something sharp twisted in Steve’s stomach. The notion that your crew believes you’d been held as some sort of captive all this while. Had you not told them anything about your time at the palace, your time with him? Had Eddie not bothered to mention his gratuity for employment? Had you really let your crew mates believe their prejudice for royals when-

‘She’ll come down when she s’ready,’ Pete’s voice cut through the noise in his head, honing him back with a kind nod as he wandered along the deck.

You caught sight of the movement hovering beneath your boots, the wind-tousled locks of Steve as he meandered along the deck below. Something dark gnarled itself around your heart as he slipped out of view, a hundred forked secrets slithering on your tongue as you swallowed them down.

Steve had lost everything he knew within a day… and it was all your fault.

Blackbeard would have never raided their kingdom had there not been word a missing monarch was wondering their shores. Yet they did, and within hours a kingdom had been crumpled to ash.

You yearned to resolve this guilt that chewed away inside, but there was no logical way of doing that without revealing what you’d hidden from him, from everyone.

Except Eddie of course.

Eddie, who already knew exactly which mast amongst the sails was your favourite to rest against, and was already scaling the rungs to reach you.

‘Thought you’d be here,’ he shuffled to sit opposite you. His legs copied yours, straddling the creaking post that housed a large sail beneath as he watched how your reciprocating smile didn’t reach your eyes.

‘Where else,’ you tried to joke, but your voice sounded thick with concern.

A humbling silence came over the two of you then, the evening sea breeze picking up a little as some rigging slapped around your knees. 

‘It’s good to be back at sea,’ Eddie started, talking into the space between you both, no real gumption or reason behind his words. ‘I’d have usually mucked out an entire stable just by lunch,’ he chuckled mostly to himself.

‘Bet your day was different too. I mean, no ladies lunches, or monitoring a palace,’ his eyes cast your way as you struggled to meet his gaze. ‘I’d wager this is probably the hardest day that Prince Steve’s likely had-‘

‘Did you want to talk about it?’ You interrupted him then, catching his eyes as they widened in surprise at your simmering frustration. Your voice was clipped, the question not entirely open, and Eddie could tell this was just bait for a well thought trap.

‘Talk about what?’ He asked unsure.

‘Well… you must have liked the bay well enough if you had wanted to stay,’ you explained, your measured tone entirely unreadable to those unfamiliar to your nuances. ‘It must be difficult to know it’s no longer there.’

To the uneducated ear, you were likely feigning concern, sincerity, but Eddie could see right though it. A decade of learning your every anxiety had him fine tuned to all your hidden words, and instantly he slouched.

The rush from the bay to the boat in the last day had been such a whirlwind, it was difficult to take a beat and sink back into the last moment you two shared. 

The moment where he’d scorned you for not staying in that uppity palace he knew you hated, accusing you of jealousy as he brusquely told you he was giving up - abandoning your mission, your plan… you.

‘It was just a convenience in all honesty,’ he sighed heavily, regret swelling inside of him. ‘Just because I wanted to stay didn’t mean I was letting you go.’

‘Sure fucking felt like it,’ you thought, as you smothered a scoff.

‘M’sorry for what I said, truly,’ he whispered. ‘You know I’d never leave you behind Mae.’

‘Hence why you stole from the stables and raced up a burning mountain for me,’ you again tried to joke, Eddie laughing heartily with you before he suddenly took in a sharp breath.

‘Did you want to talk about the reason it got burned down?’

‘No, not particularly,’ you said with a small voice and sharp eyes as they glared at Eddie, silencing him effectively as he nodded.

‘Okay.’

Goosebumps soon littered your body as the temperature began to drop, scattered stars now blinking amongst the violet sky.

‘It was Constance,’ you said into the night void, Eddie’s head shooting your way. ‘Well at least I’m pretty sure it was.’

‘Why d’ya think that?’ He gently probed, his dangling foot nudging yours in reassurance.

‘She always held a grudge against me. At first I just thought it was because she hated pirates which is… y’know, a reasonable excuse. But then it was like she had these jabs that struck just a little too close to home, and then it all just fell into place.’

Your eyes had latched onto the faint outline of the moon rising now, pale against the small twinkling lights and wispy clouds.

‘She must have heard us two talking at some point. I mean nobody else knew…’

‘Swear on my life I didn’t tell a soul,’ Eddie quickly added, making you chuckle. ‘And you’re allowed to punch me if I ever do.’

As the laughter died on your lips, your mind wandered back to the night before.

‘I think I finally realised it was her when we were trying to escape the palace,’ your voice had dropped now, husky with emotion. ‘We came to this landing where you could see everything on fire, and Fanny had asked a question about pirates and I was certain that Constance would have some snide remark to what I’d said and instead when I looked over she just looked… broken. Not the- the shock or the sadness that everyone else had but just… penitent. As if she was the one who had personally brought the wrath of Blackbeard to the bay.’

The heavy words clung to the sea mist now, hanging in the air as they refused to leave.

‘I don’t even know how she could have gotten word out,’ you sighed, leaning back against the rigid post that lined your back.

‘Well it would have likely been that she told a friend or a barkeep, and they would have told their boss, who would have told their trader…’ you looked at Eddie, an assuredness to his words you were mildly surprised by. ‘There was a whole chain of command in that bay that was completely unaffected by the palace.’

‘Well not anymore,’ you mumbled sourly, picking at a loose thread around your knee before casting your gaze back out to sea.

‘Not any more.’

Chapter Text

The crew was scampering below deck measly minutes after tethering at port. It wasn’t often that you were fortunate enough to dock at a busy bay without the cloak of night, but with an expanding crew, supplies were urgently needed.

Steve had silently slipped to your side amongst the hustle, Eddie naturally at your other shoulder as Pete began to list detailed inventory requirements. The crew huddled around, listening diligently for their allocation as the plan was set before you all.

‘-and you should find us some of ‘em orange things we like Mae,’ Pete pointed at you, a curt nod answer enough. 

‘What about me?’ Steve coughed then, watching intently as Pete’s gaze had dropped away from the crew. ‘What should I get?’

It wasn’t difficult to notice how tricky the prince was finding it to bond with your crew. They had admittedly kept a close eye on him since he’d stepped aboard, noticing how his weight wobbled with every wave, and how easily his soft royal skin would scald from salt soaked ropes.

Organic conversation between your crew and Steve was sparse unless of course prompted by yourself, or when they were reprimanding him for using the last of the rags for a minor friction burn. They all seemingly had very little in common and even less to say to each other. 

A supply run was not going to be the opportunity to bond.

‘You should go with Steve,’ Eddie said calmly, solemnly even.

You glanced at him for a moment, the glimpse of apprehension on Eddie’s face clouded by his certainty as he looked back at you. He could see the question in your eyes, the knowing how unhappy that action would make him, and before you could argue he continued.

‘You know better than anyone how to blend in, how to hide,’ Eddie muttered, his voice dropping as he dipped his head. ‘Makes sense he stick with you sweetheart.’

‘Alright then,’ you conceded with a nod, once more missing the way Steve was studying you both.

The hidden connotations, the soft glances, the concerned words, it was all piling up in Steve’s mind; a flurry of questions that remained unanswered after all these months.  

Before he had a chance to sink further into his doubt, the crew started to mill about, scurrying topside as you all prepared to disembark your ship. With a final glance amongst each other, you all set off into the markets.

~ ~ ~

Eddie was right. You were the best at knowing how to blend into a crowd.

When you’d first joined the crew all those years ago, leaving the ship felt almost impossible during the first few months. Every bay swarmed with news of the missing princess, and despite Pete hauling you off the ship each time, clueless to the anxiety that rattled in your chest, you eventually discovered you had a statistical advantage in the crowds - you were young, small, and nobody ever really paid much attention to a girl. 

Especially one who dressed and smelt like she’d been at sea for days on end.

Blending into crowds of commoners slowly became second nature, and as the royal smoothness of your skin and posture melted with every new day, soon enough no one could tell you had just swept through an entire market, dress filled with fresh fruits and nuts you’d managed to pocket while passing. 

So yes, you were the best at blending into crowds unnoticed and dissuading any unwanted attention, but your skills were being severely stretched to encompass the blundering, inept prince in your company.

His incompetence oozed of a sheltered upbringing, likely never truly leaving his kingdom to experience the masses like this, and you’d partially queried whether he’d ever left the bay by boat when you had first set sail, especially with the way his legs shook with every step on deck.

The crowds swarmed around you, opening into little pockets of space with each new current of foot traffic or odd looking stall. The market seemed busier than usual, and as you kept one eye on the produce and one eye on your companion, your eyes caught on the flash of royal blue as a banner poked itself above the throng.

‘Shit,’ your voice dropped, a harsh whisper escaping you as your head instinctively dipped down, your loose locks shielding your face.

‘What’s wrong with that naval guard?’ Steve asked, misunderstanding your worry as a vendetta against this one particular man, his shiny uniform gleaming from the midday sun.

The guard never used to congregate at markets like this, your mind churning at the possible reasons for the sudden influx. Perhaps there was a rush of new recruits… which would make sense if news of the missing princess had been revived.

‘Everything’s wrong with a naval guard,’ you spat, instantly eyeing an escape. ‘They despise pirates.’

‘Perhaps they can tell me if my parents are alright?’ Steve’s thoughtless rambling fell from him before you could cast a glare to silence him.

‘Can you shut up and stop being stupid for a minute?’ Your head whipped back in his direction, your feet inching closer as your voice now dripped in criticism. ‘You are a pirate now. You cannot go home.’

The bluntness of your tone held a truth he did not know yet, and you simply continued as he stared you down, the ocean of people surrounding you swallowing you both into its swill.

‘Until your parents return to the throne, to the kingdom, and word is known and spread by speakers, then you cannot go asking,’ your voice now a harsh whisper as you sighed. ‘It just draws unnecessary attention to yourself, and as far as your people are aware, you could be dead.’

‘But I’m not-‘ Steve immediately added.

‘And if they find that out, you will be strung and quartered for fleeing your kingdom.’

A look of horror crossed his face, instant disgust at the notion. 

‘My kingdom would never do that,’ he said rather indignantly before lifting his nose and looking down at you from it. ‘And I didn’t flee.’

‘You don’t know what people are capable of when they’re scared and angry,’ you replied bluntly, hoping to end his persistence as you turned, and began weaving through the crowds.

‘Well what am I supposed to do?’ He asked, catching up with you as he started to move.

‘We wait,’ you peered around his shoulder, ‘and avoid all Kingdom Banners in the meantime.’

Steve didn’t have a chance to look over his shoulder before you were tugging him away from the stalls, your warm fingers slipping easily among his as you dragged him out of view.

Unbeknownst to the clueless prince, avoiding Kingdom Banners was a common occurrence for you, and now with the news of the missing princess found again, your senses were on high alert. 

‘You haven’t fled your kingdom,’ Steve began to argue, attempting a hushed voice which was quite frankly appalling. ‘Why are you hiding from the Banners?’

‘Because,’ you stressed, hauling him down a thinning alleyway between two large buildings, the bustle of the market humming at the other end. ‘Pirate.’

‘Of course,’ Steve mumbled, ‘how could I forget,’ he mocked, your hand tightening around his fingers in caution.

‘Please shut up.’

A flurry of bright blue flags waved at the end of the path, a glint of armoured shoulders catching the sunlight as you paused your steps. Steve would have walked into you if you hadn’t of positioned your grip to punch his stomach at the impact.

‘Banners?’ His voice low and tinged with nerves as you turned on your heel again, hoping the change of direction wouldn’t be noted by those at the end.

‘Yep.’ 

A wash of Banners suddenly appeared at where you’d entered the passage, your throat drying at the predicament. Immediately you dropped to a crouch, fingers fiddling with the lace of your boot as you appeared to feign a reason for the sudden change. 

‘Oi, Commander,’ a rather stocky looking bloke called out, eyes fixed on the small group at the other end. 

You could hear Steve gulp, your eyes darting up from under your messy hair as you noticed the small group of Banners now heading your way. 

Their eyes flitted between their team, you and Steve, and as you straightened up you were quick to mumble under you breath before they drew too near.

‘Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable.’

‘Sorry?’ Steve asked, eyes as wide as a panicked deer, apprehension clear on his face. 

‘Like with a brothel,’ you hurried to explain, hands rising to his cheeks before he had a moment to respond.

He was stunned, how could someone as perfect as you understand the insides of a brothel? You truly had seen the world. His mind whirled as you spun on the spot, back hitting the sandy wall of the narrow alley as your eyes remained fixed on him.

‘What-’ was all he managed to get out before you were tugging his lips down to yours.

The clunk of shoulder plates and flag poles tapping on the cobblestones grew close, and despite your attention being pulled to either end of the alley, you could physically feel the moment Steve understood what was happening, when he kissed you back, when he let go.

A held breath was released from him in a heated moan, his lips finally pushing back into yours as his hands found your waist. Your fingers slid up his neck, gently grasping his hair with a teasing tug that made him kiss you harder.

‘Gods, get a room,’ you heard grunted nearby, the armoured footsteps now a muffled noise as blood roared in your ears from the fire filling you. 

Masterfully he parted your lips with his skilled tongue, earning a receptive moan from you which he eagerly swallowed with a nipping grin. His tongue stroked yours, and the sensation would have buckled your knees had Steve not expertly pinned you to the wall.

You weren’t sure of the last time anyone had managed to drag noises like this from you - desperate moans and breathless pants that were almost sinful. 

Steve’s hand travelled down your leg, his fingers hooking behind the bend of your knee before he lifted it up and guided you open, your leg instinctively wrapping around his hips as he pressed into you firmly. The feeling had a gasp rushing from you, and Steve was eager to swallow it with his lips over and over.

‘You’d think these whore’s would have more class,’ another guard muttered, finally passing you both as you caught a glimpse of them through hooded eyes. 

Steve’s hands roamed, gripping and pawning at your body now, skimming over your ragged clothes as he took handfuls of your flesh in hold. You tried to resist rocking your hips up into him, the delicious weight of his body spreading your legs further as he pushed you into the wall, never once taking a breath. 

Steve’s head was spinning. His lungs were burning from lack of air but that meant nothing as long he could keep on kissing you, touching you, earnestly pushing into you over and over. 

The stomp of the Banner’s troop had quietened now, their disgruntled rattling echoing off down at the end of the alleyway, somewhere far away where Steve’s kisses couldn’t reach them. 

You meant to stop, you truly did, but Steve had thrown you into a dizzying need, your body acting on its own accord as you struggled to pull back and breath against your better judgment. He continued to paint your skin alive with his touch, searing hot and ardently greedy, and his lips and tongue dove deeper, dragging out moans and gasps from far within.

You don’t know where the strength came from, but as his mouth started to descend on your neck, his name fell breathless from your tongue. 

‘Steve-‘

His swollen lips came into view, his head reeling back only slightly as his dilated pupils rested heavy on your face.

‘Mm?’ He mumbled, eyes never really leaving your lips, edging closer again without much thought.

‘They’ve gone,’ you got out before his lips encased yours once more, stilling against you as the words sunk in.

With a small step back, his palm released your thigh, and he finally took in your heaving chest and kiss-bitten mouth. Against the wall, clothes all ruffled and cheeks rouged, you looked muddled, divinely messy and utterly bewitching.

He wanted to simply step forward once more, lift you into his hold, find the nearest bed-

‘You guys coming?’ Eddie’s curt voice sliced through the air, both of you turning to him with wild eyes as he watched you both carefully. His lips were spread into a line, refusing to give away what he knew, and his face only moved slightly when you pushed away from the wall to straighten your skirts with a pat. ‘Hm?’

‘Yeah,’ you nodded, voice a little breathless as you tried to manage your racing heart. 

~ ~ ~

‘Find anything good at the market today?’ Eddie probed, voice thick with curiosity as he tumbled down the ladder, descending into the belly of the ship. It had taken him a little while to find you since you’d left port. You had managed to hide out in the store room, avoiding the burning gazes from both men as you tried to ignore the own churning in your stomach. 

Ignoring Steve was almost an instinct, a ruse you could keep up from your days with him in the palace. The kiss was insinuated as being something only necessary for the safety of yourselves and the crew, and it would continue to be highlighted as such should the topic ever arise again.

‘Are you going to tell me why you kissed me?’ Steve’s voice dropped as he cornered you at the bow, the boat rocking as it left port. A hint of a taunt dusted his lips as they quirked up, and you were quick to roll your eyes in annoyance.

‘What?’ You hissed. ‘I didn’t kiss you, kiss you. It was a distraction- and besides, you kissed me.’

‘I distinctly remember you pulling me-‘

‘And I distinctly remember saving our lives, alright?’ You interrupted him, puncturing his ego with a look. ‘End of discussion.’

His smirk wavered for a moment under the heat of your glare, before you walked past and out of sight.

But avoiding Eddie felt unnatural. He knew you too well, and he always sought you out from every hiding spot.

As Eddie neared you noticed the slight reek of rum that sat deep in his clothes, the irregular stumbling now likely from a smuggled drink he’d pawned for at the market, and his hazy eyes fell on you.

‘We got some fruits, new meats too,’ you answered honestly, detailing the inventory you’d helped stock after exiting the alley earlier.

‘S’that all?’ Eddie sniffed, leaning against a groaning post as his eyes narrowed on you. 

For a moment his expression was entirely unreadable, the usual puppy eyes masked by a cloud of envy, one he wasn’t entirely used to having to hide so openly from you.

‘Was there something I missed?’ You challenged instead, watching as he reared his head back a little in acceptance. 

‘Nope, no,’ he shook his head once, crossing his arms as he re-shifted his weight, ‘just curious to see how our Steve fared in public today.’

Eddie’s teeth practically bared as he spoke the prince’s name, an ugliness to the sneer now marking his face as he continued to stare you down, trying to catch you out.

‘He’s a fool,’ you replied almost instantly, eliciting a genuine grin from Eddie, ‘but he’ll get there.’

At the admission of your irateness with the prince, Eddie softened, warmth filling him where rum had now soaked in as he smirked down at you.

‘So who do you prefer then?’ He teased, tongue just poking out between his lips as he smirked at you.

‘What?’ You asked, a faint giggle leaving you.

‘Me or Steve, hm?’ Eddie hummed, lips tights.

‘You and Steve are different, Eddie,’ you scoffed, eyeing up the nearby nestled barrels in hopes of a distraction from the untimely topic. After spending most of your noon amongst the stock, there was little left for you to do, and you reluctantly cast your gaze back to Eddie.

‘You’re asking me to compare a rock to a- a carrot,’ you spluttered.

‘Are you comparing one of us to a vegetable?’ Eddie shot back, the soft slur to his words solidifying under the accusation.

‘That’s besides the point Ed,’ you sighed, truly seeing no other way to end this conversation than to pluck your exit free. ‘You can’t ask me to … to choose or compare you both, that’s unfair.’

Over a decade of friendship with Eddie allowed him to be an expert in all things you. He could read you like an open chart, an unmarked night sky - and you were certain that given the opportunity to sober up he would probably start to notice the flushing of your cheeks at his interrogation.

It would take even less time for him to deduce the reason for said flushing, and with that worry thick in your mind you attempted to side step him with a shy shrug, hoping to saunter down the hall to freedom.

You didn’t reach far before Eddies arm shot out, bracing itself against the other wall and caging you in place.

‘Well what does he do that’s different to me?’ He asked, indignant eyes watching you like a siren.

‘Eddie-‘

‘No seriously, c’mon I wanna know,’ the slight murmur to his tone was the only give away of his rising insecurities, and at the sound you paused, sighing deeply once more as you gave in.

‘He… I don’t know,’ you spoke slowly, as if you were tasting the thoughts before you released them, not entirely certain of the sourness to them. ‘He talks to me like I’m… like I’m just a pirate.’

Steve treated you like a pirate too, the tough banter that dribbled a little too close to inappropriateness. The ease at which he spoke to you envied that of a lifelong feud, but he only spoke to you this way thinking you had no veil of royalty. 

Eddie treated you like a princess however, a soft love that filled you both with warmth and safety, a love that could only brew from a childhood friendship.

‘But you’re not just a pirate Mae,’ Eddie uttered. ‘You’re so much more-‘

‘Regardless of the fact,’ you interrupted him, your eyes softening on his as you prayed for his arm to now drop, ‘that is the difference.’

‘Okay so how would you rather I speak to you then, princess?’ He queried, the muscles along his forearm rippling as he clenched his fingers together in annoyance… and restraint.

‘Truthfully,’ you spoke quietly, growing amicably tired from the tedious questioning.

‘The truth?’ His eyebrows shot up as you simply nodded, cocking your own eyebrow in the process.

‘Mhmm.’

‘Okay… fine,’ he started, clearing his throat. ‘These corsets that you’ve been wearing since the palace? They make you look like a whore.’

‘Excuse me?’ You croaked, entirely intrigued now by Eddie’s chain of thought as you suddenly felt warm under his intense stare and wafting hands.

‘Prancing your tits about like they’re the gods’ gift,’ he continued for a moment, mildly unconvinced of his own annoyances as your arms now crossed themselves over your chest.

‘Well I’m sorry for updating my wardrobe,’ you couldn’t help but laugh in shock. ‘What else have you got?’

He licked his lips, gaze raising to your head now as his finger pointed out. ‘Okay your hair? It’s a rats nest.’

‘What’s wrong with my hair?’ The wind tousled locks matted around your ear as you fingered them, the moment of wavering insecurity dashed away as you plastered on the fine tuned mask of acceptance.

‘Have you looked in a mirror lately?’ He asked.

‘Actually no, Pete didn’t manage to rob the beauty parlour before we fled the bay,’ your lips curled up in a taunting smile.

Eddie looked visibly deflated.

‘Is this really what you think Steve and I talk like? Just…insulting each other all the time?’ You were giggling now, the sound rich to Eddies ears as he smothered a preening look.

‘How would I know?’ His shoulders shrugged, feathers clearly ruffled as he couldn’t tear his eyes from you, as if something was bubbling inside that leapt and danced for the sound of your voice.

‘Well it’s certainly not this … uncouth,’ you snorted.

‘Well enlighten me sweetheart,’ Eddie teased, tone light but face void of his true thoughts, his true feelings. ‘What does Steve have, that I don’t?’

Lack of history. No preposition. Void of all knowledge of your princess days.

You wanted to say that he wasn’t afraid, that he spoke his mind and took what he wanted. But upon reflection that wasn’t the case either. The only hint you’d gotten back of Steve ever returning any affection was when he kissed you back in the alley. You’d had an inclination that he may have liked you back at the palace, but what would you really know about that anyway? You had nothing to compare it to, only the butterfly’s that you held caged away for Eddie most of your childhood, and from the outside view, Steve obsession was only likely due to your employment history. A pirate - how interesting. 

Eddie watched your mind blank, the way your lips parted as you hoped for a response to come through, but as you stared up at Eddie in that moment, in the thinning hallway of the hull his eyes flared, telling you all that you needed to know. That he had seen you both earlier today. That kiss was what spurred these insecurities to come bursting forth. 

Your lips rounded in recognition, gaze dropping for a moment to his mouth as he wet his lips, a sarcastic smirk tugging the corner of his mouth as he leaned forward teasingly.

‘Exactly.’

With one word Eddie had turned your world. Were all these unspoken words leading to what you thought? Was he only pushing for a comparison between him and the prince because he too had suppressed a decade of longing and burdened feelings like you had? 

Did he love you back like you loved him?

Despite his lips pressed into a tight line, his face remained open and soft, despite the tone of his words.

Your mind was moving faster than your mouth, a jumble of his name stuttering out as you tried to ask what you wanted, say what was needed. ‘Eddie-‘

‘Just… something to think about,’ he murmured before dropping his arm and wondering back into the sun on deck, silently shifting you back into your questionable shadows.

Chapter Text

Water trickled down through every crevice of the ship; through the cracks of the floorboards, the cannon cubby holes, cascading down every rough surface it could touch. Water from the sky, water from the sea, water from the wind - it was endless.

The storm had surged around the boat with little warning, the pre-emptive glossy grey clouds above the only hail of what was to come, and by the time the crew had tried to steer away, you’d been sucked right into the belly of it all.

‘We should keep heading east,’ Pete explained, hands flat against the aging map spread across the table in the centre. ‘Those clouds appeared from nothin’, and they’ll move with the winds back t’coast.’

‘Aye,’ Dickie agreed before your finger traced the old parchment.

‘The winds are not going one way Pete, this is the eye, it could send us anywhere,’ you circled a new spot on the map. ‘If we drop the sails and steer using the rudder to go this way, we could clear this Kingdoms’ waters.’

A murmur of agreement circled the table.

‘Mae has a point,’ Eddie explained. ‘If we head in this direction, we could completely miss any Naval boats.’

‘We are still close t’land,’ Pete murmured, nodding his head as he eyed Eddie, ‘nice thought lad.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Steve suddenly spoke, hands waving in the air before they landed on a large blank patch on the map, ‘I might just be really stupid, but what’s wrong with going here?’ He jabbed at an unmarked section, proud of his point before he shrunk under the gaze of the crew.

‘You are just really stupid,’ Eddie muttered under his breath before you spoke up.

‘Those are uncharted waters Steve,’ you said plainly, holding his stare as he tried not to wither under it, ‘they’re uncharted for a reason.’

He scoffed, his eyes brightening as if he’d met the punchline of a joke too early. ‘C’mon you can’t seriously be telling me that you … pirates … are afraid of the open ocean?’

‘They uncharted for reason boy,’ Pete repeated, now straightening up, meeting Steve’s height as he stared him down. ‘No boats ever leave tha’ stretch of ocean. We go in, we might ne’er leave.’

Steve swallowed the chuckle that threatened to escape. He could see how deadly serious your crew were behaving, and before he could question it further the rest joined in.

‘I heard is’a Kraken that stalks them waters,’ Dickie suggested, a couple murmuring in agreement as a deckhand spoke up. 

‘More like a Leviathan,’ he stammered out.

‘Some’n said it was a serpent… Some’n big that took down a whole ship!’

‘Wait so you…’ Steve licked his lips, a hand on his hip as he glanced around the table, ‘you won’t go into these open waters in fear of … of myths?’

‘These aren’t myths,’ you spat, tracing a line with a navigation compass as the point pinned to the wood beneath the chart, your eye line never lifting. ‘They’re not just stories told to royals before their bedtimes to scare them into never leaving their palace walls. They’re real.’

Steve, the lack of perceptiveness he often held, didn’t miss the undertone your voice took, as if this wasn’t just a prejudiced insult thrown his way - it was like you too had been on the receiving end of such a childhood.

‘And need I remind you of the dangers we escaped from in your kingdom?’ You finished, lifting your head from your work as you glared at him.

Steve swam in your gaze for as long as you allowed, drowning amongst the challenges silent within your eyes. 

Of course he remembered the dangers. Those same dangers that had crippled his kingdom into its own downfall, had his family fleeing into the night in hopes of safety, had you pulling him to your lips as a distraction-

‘No okay you… you made your point,’ he quickly surrendered.

‘I don’t think I have Steven,’ you stalked closer to him, expertly shifting your weight to compensate for the tilting floors. ‘Just because pirates live on the ocean does not mean we love every inch of it. There’s vast sections of oceans no one has ever seen due to these “stories”. Stories that have saved countless lives.’

The storm outside matched the expression on your face; angry and wild as turbulence churned within. Your eyes narrowed on him with a final squint, a conceding nod being wrenched out of him.

‘So we don’t go there,’ you said with a firm finality, turning your attention back to the table as everyone cast a sniggering glance at the defeated prince.

‘Well said pet,’ Pete agreed, orders to lower the sails and ready the rudder being assigned to the crew, the ship preparing for battle with natures elements.

It wasn’t long before everyone had stumbled topside, the storm now battering against the crew as the chilly rain sank deep into their bones. You’d all rushed to your stations like a well oiled machine, Pete placing you on steering duty as you so often were when waters were as troublesome as this.

Ropes were knotted, sails tight, barrels locked, and you believed that if the thick rain dribbling down Steve’s face hadn’t been blinding him so much, you’d fathom he would have likely made a comment about how impressive you all were.

He was so easily amused, and as Dickie struggled to catch the lapping lines around Steve’s ankles, the slipperiness between your fingertips snatched your concentration.

The helm was starting to fumble in your hold, the rain slick handles slipping through your fingers as the wheel started to violently spin in its frame. The ship lurched dangerously to one side, your feet sliding from underneath you with the wet deck as you lunged for the wheel, the heels of your palms taking the bruising, battering force of each handle that whipped against your slimy hands. 

‘Keep ‘er steady!’ You heard over the gales, the storm surrounding you smothering nearly all sounds other than it’s determined rage.

‘M’trying!’ You screamed as the crashing waves smashed over the cannons and flooded the deck. Your hands finally found purchase on the wheel, holding it steady as the ship continued to rock. The rain streamed down your cheeks, blinding your eyes as you tried to wipe your face clear, but the small shift of weight caused the wheel to spin again, and you were rounding on yourself to keep it straight. 

Your feet slipped and slid on the wet wood, grunts and wails leaving you as you pushed yourself upwards, the shouts and cries from your crew now lost to the building storm. Your floundering body swayed with every wet tip of the deck, and it was taking all your strength to stop yourself from keeling over.

The storm was unlike anything you’d seen, the sky charcoal black with a matted blanket of rain, and a roaring gale skimming across every surface with a piercing cold scream. Thunder boomed from the heavens, echoing high above the clouds as the storm got lost in conversation, each clap of thunder answering the one just before.

You couldn’t see any further than a few feet ahead, the rain and waves battering against you as they smeared your vision. You could just hear the ropes of the main sail flapping loose in the gales, whipping about in the air as they struggled to latch onto their retreating hinges just out of view. The ship continued to lurch with the choppy waves, the helm still slick in your grip as your fists tightened and knuckles whitened. Soon your knees began to buckle under the swell, barely holding your footing as you tried to stay on course.

You barely had a chance to register the dropped main boom that swung low across the upper deck before it thwacked the side of your head with an almighty thud, the deck suddenly rising to meet you as everything began to shift, and you sank into darkness.

~ ~ ~

An ache as loud as cannon fire crescendoed in your mind, booming as your eyes began to blink open. The worn, well loved timber of a cabin hung above you, and as you turned your head you winced at the movement.

‘Hey, easy there,’ Eddie’s soft whisper cooed through, his mess of curls now coming into view as you pushed yourself up at your elbows. Your vision was slightly blurry, and the throb on the side of your head brought you hurtling back to speed.

‘The storm…’ you mumbled, grimacing as you tried to roll off a bed you’d been placed on.

‘It’s passed-‘ Eddie stepped forward, warm hands at your shoulders trying to calm you back into lying down, all coaxing ignored by your stubbornness. 

‘I let go,’ you swallowed, guilt chewing inside of you as your legs swung themselves over the side. ‘I let go of the helm-‘

‘It’s alright,’ Eddie soothed.

‘No,’ you spoke, tone insistent as you pushed off the dimpled mattress beneath you. ‘It’s not-!’

‘-woah,’ Eddies arms dove out to catch you, holding you in his warmth as your stumbling feet lost their balance. Your flailing fingers caught on his crinkled shirt, and as you lifted your head you registered how close your lips were to his, his panting mouth heavy in your space as he steadied you.

When did he get shorter? And when did you get taller?

The questions buzzed in your eyes as Eddie buried down a chuckle, ignoring the way his chest heaved at being this close to you, before he pushed against your waist and created some tangible distance between you both.

The bend of Eddie’s long legs highlighted how the wooden floor sat sloped at an angle, the lean of the ship now answering why you had matching heights for a second after falling into him, and by the time you turned to look out the port window, you were graced with the sight of golden sands and luscious trees.

‘What the-‘ you murmured, tearing your eyes from the small round window to tumble out of the room, ignoring Eddie’s cries as he struggled to catch you. By sheer determination you were able to careen through the ship, scaling the tipped rungs as you emerged on the deck, grabbing the edge of the bow as you surveyed the sight.

White pearlescent sand stretched across a curved beach, teal waves lapping at the edges as a lush green jungle ran along the border. Steep jagged cliffs situated behind the wilderness climbed towards the sky, dotted with patches of vegetation and ponds, as numerous waterfalls hurtled themselves over sloped edges. 

The spot of land sat alone in the ocean; compact, unmarked, and unknown, and as the sound of waves licking the back rudder reached you, you finally noticed the damp hills that now surrounded the belly of the ship from where it had ploughed into the sand, beaching itself.

Marooned. On an island.

You were so engrossed in staring at the tropical landscape you didn’t hear Pete shuffle to join you before he was at your side.

‘How did this happen?’ You murmured mostly to yourself, Pete answering nonetheless as Eddie sidled up on your other side.

‘The storm,’ Pete spoke up, an air of confidence to his words that he often held, and that usually calmed you, ‘ran us aground and dug us in deep.’

The panic on your features were clear to all those close, and Pete continued as he settled your nerves.

‘No need to fret. Nothing a few good high tides can’t wash us out with,’ he was grinning at you now, almost laughing at your shocked expression.

‘We’re stranded,’ you repeated plainly, staring at Pete as he simply nodded in agreement.

‘S’about time we’s all had a holiday.’

Chapter Text

As the waves lapped lazily along the sand, the crew had taken the forsaken opportunity to truly relax. The dozens of men lay sprawled out along the shore, even Pete taking the chance to toe off his shoes and wade along the edge. The tree line hovered nearby, granting dense shadows that bled across the beach and covered those seeking shelter. 

Despite the near picturesque situation you’d been dropped into, even you struggled to calm the panic in your chest. The twinging alarm that gripped and twisted inside; you were stranded here, and it was your fault.

Who knew how long you would be stuck here … and furthermore, who knew what kind of supplies survived the storm? Instead, you focused on what you could do in that moment.

Clattering about the wonky beached boat was a lot less graceful than if she were buoyant, but as you clambered back over the side with numerous canteens lassoed around your waist, Eddie began to wander over.

‘You know you’re allowed to take a break like the rest of us, right?’ He called out through a squinted grin, the harsh sun forcing him to scrape his hair back into a low bun that knotted against his neck. His eyes remained hooked on you, the glimmer of sweat dusting his brow as you managed a tired smile that didn’t meet your eyes.

‘Well someone has to keep us all alive,’ you shot back, shaking the belt of bottles wrapped around you.

‘Need any help?’ Eddie asked, eyes softening as he took a shunted step in the sand towards you. The movement was rushed, unnatural, and you knew what he was truly asking. ‘Want any company?’ His eyes implied, and all of a sudden you felt overwhelmed.

The familiar stinging in the pit of your gut has you recall the last time you and Eddie spoke candidly, and despite the daily workings of the boat mulling the awkwardness away soon after, the words still lay thick as honey in your mind, unable to be washed away.

‘No-‘ you summoned in a breath, catching sight of Steve hovering not far off, watching you over Eddie’s shoulder, ‘don’t need you slowing me down.’

He smirked then, eyes travelling over your dishevelled form, a joke perching on his lips before he swallowed it down with better judgement.

If anyone knew your anxious tendencies best it was Eddie. After years of watching you fix what you could in hopes of quelling a guilt that you’d wrongfully thrust upon yourself, he knew better than anyone to just let you be. 

The guilt and the moment would soon pass, and you would return regret free. So if that meant letting you wander into an unmarked jungle in search of water, he would let you go.

‘Well I’d hate to keep you,’ he settled on, stepping aside with a slight bow as he let you pass.

‘Where are you heading?’ Steve suddenly called out, joining you both out of nowhere as he watched how the bottles at your hip clanged like a cowbell.

‘Water,’ you said curtly, an air of assertiveness easily reaching you in the presence of the prince. ‘And you were about to go and search for some firewood.’

‘I was?’ Steve repeated, brows crossing over as you looked at the men in front of you.

‘You both were,’ you directed, patting their shoulders equally before you walked away, desperate for the solace and refreshing shade of the chittering jungle.

You didn’t dare look back over your shoulder, cautious of the carnage you’d just implemented and abandoned. But firewood was needed, and the crew did deserve a break.

And you would search for water.

It was only an hour later after trudging through the dewy forest did you finally come across fresh water. You heard it before you saw it, trekking along the dense path until you stumbled upon the trickling waterfall cascading down into a sizeable lake. The ground sloped with a rock bed into the water, the turquoise colour deepening as it neared the white waterfall, bashing itself against some rocks on the other side.

Unsalted water wasn’t necessarily hard to come by back on the boat. The deck had a few empty barrels that filled with rain, and in the right conditions, you could boil sea water to dry off the salt within it. Steve still hadn’t mastered the technique though, any water he boiled always holding a briny aftertaste and while you had hopes for the men building a fire, you weren’t willing to take the risk with the drinking water.

Especially when all of this was now at your disposal. 

The flasks were easy to fill with water from the heavens after you’d hobbled around the rock pool, crooking the necks under the stream before sealing them closed, and as the heavy bottles clunked against the smooth rock at your hip, you finally decided to pause.

The crew could relax on the beach. You could relax here.

The jungle was quiet despite the heavy chittering of leaves with every gust of wind, and while the island stood proudly on its own in the ocean, the cove seemed sheltered enough that you were thankful this is where you’d been planted amongst the world.

Stuck on a beach so golden it shone with the sun. Trapped with a jungle so dense it sang with wildlife. Deserted under a sky that now cast away every brewing cloud.

You sank into the solitude the babbling waterfall offered you for a little while longer.

~ ~ ~

By the time you returned to the beach hours later, you were pleasantly surprised to see a fire roaring on the sand, surrounded by the crew as they swayed around it.

The sun was starting to dip beneath the ridge of cliffs that encircled you all, and as you breached the tree line you finally took note as to what had put the crew in such good spirits. Rum.

Dirty bottles sloshing with brown liquid dotted about the shore, a few held in the grasps of those swinging closest to the fire.

You really were stuck in paradise with a bunch of morons.

‘Mae!’ Pete cried out, hobbling towards you as you smiled kindly at him. A small flask of sorts remained tucked into his belt, and as soon as you smelt his breath you realised he too had partaken in tonight’s activities.

‘The boys manag’d to do a lil hunt around, and you’d ne’er guess what they foun’,’ he swallowed a burp. ‘This spot must be close to ‘em smuggling routes, cus Dickie found a storage hatch!’

‘And does this route happen to store anything other than rum?’ You joked, Pete smacking your back as he swayed again.

‘Don’t be daf’ pet,’ he chuckled before stumbling over to Eddie closer to the fire, a small group forming as they regaled stories and tales fuelled by alcohol.

‘Benji managed to catch some fish before Dickie found the treasure,’ Steve’s smooth voice washed over you as you turned in surprise. ‘And the fire was up and running before everyone started drinking so no safety hazards there,’ he continued, the glow of the fire warming his features as you struggled to tear your gaze from him.

Steve had obviously tried his best on the boat, but being on land was clearly his mastery, as if he’d managed to stoke this all into effect just from being on sand not saltwater.

‘Eddie boiled the water for some fruits we found, so don’t worry, I didn’t touch that,’ he joked as you giggled. ‘I grabbed some hammocks from the ship too and set them up over there…’

You finally looked over at some palm trees that held some haphazardly tied hammocks amongst them before coming back to Steve’s ramblings.

‘…but Benji did the knots, and Eddie, and Pete too so you won’t fall to the ground in your sleep don’t worry.’

You’d been gone for barely an afternoon and evidently Steve had done nothing but think about you and your comfort. Your chest churned in greed.

‘I’ll take those too,’ he mumbled before breaching your personal space as a hand untied the belt of bottles clanging around your frame as he slung them over his shoulder, before lifting up a grubby bottle reeking of rum between you both. ‘And this is for you.’

You still hadn’t really said anything, and for a moment Steve’s face fell in fear of overstepping before your fingers brushed his as you took the bottle. You uncorked the top, holding eye contact as you took a selfish swig, wiping your lips with the back of your arm as you brought it down.

‘How could something so ill-mannered look so hot?’ he thought as he drank you in.

‘Well someone likes being in charge,’ you smirked, wetting your lips as a carefree look spread over your features, your tone of earlier authority waining only slightly.

That was why it was hot - it was you, and Steve latched onto the thought.

‘Well,’ he quickly swallowed, flustered a little, ‘I didn’t do everything, it was a group effort really.’

The change in modesty faltered you for a second, a genuine look cast over Steve as you took him in further.

The day had forced his sleeves to cast up into neat rolls around his elbows, his shirt unbuttoned into a deep v showcasing a chest of matted hair, slick with grime and sweat. His hair flopped about, a few pieces framing his chiselled face as his skin looked equally grimy and sweaty - as if he’d done far more work that day than he dare take credit for.

The torch that Steve held for you was burning bright in his chest, scorching his skin and harming his heart with every breath that passed within your company.

This was your crew, and he wanted them to look good for you. He wanted to look good for you. He was trying.

‘Well I’m glad to hear that,’ you finally said with a slight nod and shy smile, diverting your attention back to the roaring crew and burning fire just a ways away as you stepped towards them all, rum in hand.

The evening continued as it began; raucous ramblings and blabbering ballads spilling from everyone’s merry lips as the sun began to dip deep into the ocean, a ghostly moon taking its place as it bathed the crew in a cool glow. 

Rum ran rife through everyone’s clammy hands, and it wasn’t long until overturned barrels were turned into banging drums as a stashed penny whistle began to play. 

Flickering embers danced on the night breeze, carrying the joyful music to the rest of the beach, and soon everyone was unified around the fire; either by clapping or singing or dancing. 

Songs and shanty’s that Steve had never heard soon swamped the space, and he watched the carefree crew before him, nursing his own murky bottle that lay wedged in the silky sand.

He watched as Pete belted out words with little articulacy. Watched as Dickie and a few others happily whacked wooden tubs with a beat that had everyone’s feet tapping. Watched as you and Eddie danced to every song, each chorus eliciting a new spin or twirl as you sank into the others hold. 

The longer he watched, the longer Steve wondered, his drunken stupor fuelling the gaze he’d now latched onto the two of you as his thoughts buzzed. 

You and Eddie moved with an ease Steve could only envy … and question. 

It was as if you’d both had years of training that had sunk fat and forgotten into your bones. The way your fingers would flick with the lilt of a ceilidh or your knees would crook with the sweep of a jig. How Eddie’s hand held yours with the feigned confidence of a limp cotillion lead, or your postures beared glimmers to that of a wonky waltz. 

It was messy and structured, and all in all everything Steve had come to learn about your friendship with Eddie. The mockery of royalty as you rounded the fire within his arms looked bright and fierce - and his mind flitted back to the ball moons ago where you had been spinning and giggling in his arms. 

A squeal erupted from you as Eddie’s arms hoisted you from the soft sand, the rum soaked bones now lessening any discomfort or worry you’d been wearing earlier that day. 

Tonight you were to dance. And to sleep under the stars as the gods intended. 

~ ~ ~

‘Morning Mae,’ Eddies deep voice rumbled into the crook of your neck. 

The night had blurred into a rich haze by the time you’d sought out your hammock, and while you couldn’t recall inviting Eddie into the swaying bed, it was a pleasant surprise to wake up in his arms.

‘Morning Eds,’ you mumbled back, squirming slightly in his hold as it tightened. His hot lips traced along your sensitive skin, and the hammering of your heart that would normally signal trepidation melted into a puddle of longing. 

Hues of lilacs dashed across the sky, the morning sun not even cresting the sea to greet everyone. A lavender calm seeped through you as Eddie’s fingers dipped below your top, the foreign touch feeling far too familiar.

‘It’s so early,’ you giggled, enticing Eddie up to your lips as his face came into view. 

‘Then you gotta be quiet sweetheart,’ he grumbled, mouth encasing yours in a long, drawn out kiss.

A kiss that deepened as his fingers travelled lower, dancing along your now bare legs as a finger slid up and up. He swallowed a muffled gasp as he found your core, a finger skimming, stroking and sinking into you before a pathetic whine escaped you.

‘You’ll wake the crew,’ Eddie teased, curling his finger as he pulled back so his curls tickled your face, and so he could watch you fall apart.

You blinked him in, all of his cocky smirk and blushing cheeks as he kissed and curled within you, dragging you to a messy edge. 

‘I won’t wake them,’ you panted, Steve’s face hovering over yours as his swept hair fell from it’s usual hold.

‘Good girl,’ he pouted as he leant down to kiss you again, his slick finger pulling away before he shuffled to settle between your hips. Searing kisses burned themselves into your lips as he moved forward, a heat piercing your core as he filled you to the hilt. A desperate groan escaped him now, your mouth seeking his to devour the delicious sound before you soon matched him with every thrust.

Smooth hands danced along your bare ribs, tickling your nude body as his skin branded you into a needy plight. 

‘Fuck- Mae,’ he groaned into your ear, Eddie’s wild curls dragging along your breasts as you keened, rolling back as far as the hammock would allow as the knot in your stomach tightened.

Hot, wet mouths traced themselves along your exposed neck, travelling lower and lower as the incessant indulgence built and built, sharpening with every touch and kiss and thrust and-

‘Morning Mae,’ Eddie’s voice blinds you awake, the beaming sun hanging high in the sky burning its way into existence as you shifted.

You blink, staring at the calm, fully clothed man as he stands aside your hammock looking down at you. A barely noticeable smirk dances at the corner of his lips, and for a startling moment you realise you had been dreaming.

Had you been dreaming…loudly?

‘You sleep like the dead,’ Eddie chuckles, nudging the hammock to wake you further as he watches you stir. ‘Been trying to wake you all morning.’

You glance to the side, your mouth too dry from sleep to form words as you notice the operation in place on the beach. Thick gnarly ropes dangle from the sides of the leaning ship, shovels and sheets lining the sand surrounding it, and almost the entirety of the crew digging or heaving.

‘Even Steve tried to wake you earlier,’ you look back at Eddie, clearing your throat as you finally swing your legs over the side with surprising grace. ‘Said something about leaving you to your beauty sleep or…whatever.’

‘Well some of us need more of it,’ you grumbled, your feet sinking into the soft sand as you pushed yourself upright.

‘Are you saying that some of us are just so handsome that we can be up at the crack of dawn with the tide, no extra sleep required to aid with our good looks?’ Eddie joked, eyeing you the entire time as you simply blinked at him again, not entirely sure which realm of reality you were in or had come from.

‘What?’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Eddie let it slide, the pile of bottles by his feet now catching your eye.

‘Any water left?’ You smacked your lips.

‘Nope,’ he shook his head, glancing back out to the ship. ‘Drank it all this morning. You know digging up an entire beach is thirsty business.’

‘Someone should have woken me,’ you protested with a stretch of your back. ‘I was meant to help.’

‘Well someone did try.’

‘Yeah well Steve couldn’t wake me if my life depended on it. The guy is about as assertive as a white flag,’ you choked on a laugh, Eddie joining in alongside you.

‘Either way, tides out. We’ll try again on the next, but for now,’ he kicked the bottles. ‘We still need water.’

‘Got it,’ you nodded groggily, silently taking the order as you looped the belt of bottles over your torso.

It was the second time in two days that you’d wondered off into the jungle alone, ignoring the watchful stares of those you’d left behind on the beach. 

The animated dream still sat heavy in your bones and between your thighs, and the closest thing to respite you could think of was isolation, and a cold bath. The lake came into view fairly swiftly, the route memorised from the day before with the helpful sound of rushing water. With bottles refilled once again, the slight sheen of sweat from the jungle and your dream had you peeling your clothes off before you could think twice, diving into the water from a raised boulder with a muted splash.

The cool water tickled your skin as you swam leisurely through it, the rustling of leaves swishing overhead as the forest hummed in solitude. The humid air hovering above the lake seduced you into staying below the surface, the refreshing water allowing your chest to breath as it cooled you down.

The waterfall nearby beckoned you closer, the water soon beating down on your skull, the soft drumming through your hair massaging the tension building through your body.

Tension that had held your body primed for a release all morning, only for it to be ripped away by reality.

There was an unspoken rule amongst the crew, as there often is when you’re all kept in such tight living quarters. One rule simple enough to mean that anything private, stays private. Most men found their jollies from brothels or taverns, yourself included from time to time, but this island and the privacy it provided - it would be a wasted opportunity to not take advantage.

Locked behind the waterfall with feet wedged amongst mossy rocks, the seclusion provided was enough to have your fingers travelling down your stomach on their own accord. Your slickness still ever present from your racy dream this morning made little work for yourself, and you were quickly bringing yourself to a peak, visions of two men swarming your mind as the waterfall drowned out your soft moans of pleasure. 

By the time you came down, the mental burden resting on your shoulders had lifted, and you silently thanked the lake before swimming through the wall of water separating you from the outside world.

All internal gratitude washed away however when you noticed a tall figure standing across the lake. You recognised them immediately - that bronze crown of hair difficult to ignore even when you tried.

It was bad enough that there was a minute possibility that Steve could have bore witness to the mumbled monologue of a dirty dream, but the thought that he could have witnessed something so private first hand, just now? Well it had you praying that the waterfall was loud enough to mask it all, and so you paused amongst the deep end of the pool, hopeful the dark water and shaded cliff obscured your wading nude body enough from his watchful eyes.

‘So this is where you’ve been running off too,’ he stated, voice carrying across the water as he held steady eye contact with you.

‘Yep,’ you replied curtly, wading the water with easy kicks as you remained in place.

‘Looks nice,’ he surveyed the space, gaze dragging back to yours after a moment as he smiled through the sun.

‘It is,’ your response short as you prayed he’d soon take interest in something else and move along.

‘Mind if I join?’

Mind? You internally screamed, keeping a straight face as your brain roared. Of course you minded. Heavily. Impenetrably. How could you even begin to think that sharing this sacred pool would be okay - this one slither of privacy you’ve had for weeks? Of course you-

‘Sure,’ the word slipped from your lips before you registered, cringing for a number of reasons as you watched a knowing smirk tug at his lips. His fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, peeling it from his slick torso as his ruffled hair jerked free. The shirt joined a crumpled pile next to your own and his slippers, his trousers dropping not a moment later.

The entire performance had your tongue swelling, and despite the serenity you felt minutes prior, your insides were burning with the memory of your dream once more. To save the cracks in your facade showing, you nonchalantly twirled in the water, facing away as you ducked beneath the surface in an attempt to cool your flaming cheeks. 

A muffled splash announced the prince’s arrival, and despite the distance between you both, it felt as if you were nothing but moments apart.

Moments where you envisioned his large hot hands travelling to your thighs, hooking you around his waist before he took you behind the waterfall again-

‘It’s cold,’ he said through a gritted smile, hauling you from your daze as you cursed yourself. You really needed to focus and wrench your mind out of the gutter, not invite men from your sex dreams to swim naked in a lake with you. You needed a cold bath again, but considering you were already doing that, you doubted it’s effectiveness.

‘You’ll get used to it,’ you replied bluntly.

‘I can’t even remember the last time I had a bath,’ the prince admitted, a boyish chuckle escaping him.

‘Probably back at your palace,’ you teased, ensuring the same amount of ripples remained between you with every move he made to near.

‘Most likely,’ he nodded, tilting his head back into the water as his hair slicked itself away from his face.

‘You should probably get used to baths like these then,’ you tried to joke but your cheeks stung at the insinuation of what kind of bath this was - were you referring to wild baths in cold lakes or baths where you participated also?

‘I’m still getting used to the idea I’m supposedly a pirate now,’ Steve continued, ignoring the trail of thought you’d surrendered yourself too as he looked inward, watching how his hands warped the water in front of him.

‘Do you wish you were something else?’ You asked as he directed his gaze back to yours, watching as you sunk lower into the water.

‘Not entirely,’ he half shrugged with what effort he could afford while swimming. ‘You?’

‘Never,’ you almost hissed, bubbles billowing around your lips as the waterline now lapped around your nose.

The word was said with such a finality, it left no room for further argument. It was clear to Steve that piracy was in your blood. That something as harsh as sea living - as he so experienced with the storm two days prior - could only be thrust upon those born into it.

Nobody would truly choose this lifestyle.

Steve scanned the jungle singing around you now, sinking into the solitude of an unknown island that likely didn’t dot any of those charts that would line his fathers desk.

Or lined his father’s desk. Not that there was likely a desk anymore…

‘Do you still have any of those princely manners from the palace?’ You asked, a soft slurring to your words as the humid air beckoned you ashore.

‘Why?’ Steve countered, voice a little thick as if you were about to propose a test to him.

‘Because I’m getting out,’ you stated, paddling to the rocky edge as your shining body broke free of the water, dripping wet as you waded over to the boulders. 

The glistening curves of your body practically shone under the dappled sunlight, and if Steve had suffered any more heat stroke, he’d have half a mind to follow you. Only at the peek over your shoulder did he avert his eyes, casting them back to his waving hands and kicking legs as he heard the distinctive rustle of shirts and stays clinking together.

‘See you later,’ you finally announced, the clanging of the belt of bottles hooking over your shoulder before you turned and walked into the humid thicket.

Only at your retreating body did Steve’s spell break, instantly swimming towards the waterfall to seek refuge in the alcove you had earlier.

~ ~ ~

It took another two days before the ship finally broke free from the beaches’ sandy clutches. Four more high tides of digging and dragging before the hull was nudged free. Countless moments where you felt your mind drifting into the dirt…

You craved a dreamless sleep, or rest… even a dreamless bath where your mind would simply stay put and not meander into the crevices of what if’s and don’t go there’s tucked away in your thoughts. You were never awarded that luxury however.

You weren’t entirely sure why the errant visions had flooded the roar of your rationality - maybe it was the serenity of the island, or perhaps the seclusion of it all, but with the relaxed rocking of the ship now at sea, all worries faded away, leaving you with the job of checking the boat and its surviving stock.

The rest of the crew set to work at bringing the ship back to its sailing beauty - scrubbing and cleaning and knotting all ropes and deck affected by the storm and the beach. With all hands quite literally on deck and the fresh sun beating down upon everyone’s necks, typical tensions began to slip, as if the calm of the beach had quickly been washed away by labour.

Particularly by the two men who’d been avidly avoided by yourself since setting free.

‘If you’ve got something to say, spit it out,’ Eddie scalded, staring at the prince who remained keeled over his dirty bucket, panting under the sun. 

The prince would be lying to himself if he said that there wasn’t anything on his mind. His thoughts were racing with anyone’s - his family, his kingdom, you…

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he mustered with a groan, straightening his back as he began to scrub the deck once more.

Eddie and Steve had been stationed among a corner of the upper deck, mops, brushes and buckets surrounding them as they were appointed the job of removing the algae the storm had coated most of the deck with.

‘You’re … moping,’ Eddie countered, leaning on the tall handle of his mop as he glowered at the kneeling prince below. ‘Or whatever the fuck that is.’

‘I’m not moping. I’m… thinking,’ Steve’s slight hesitation did little to lessen the irritation Eddie so glaringly held for him. 

It wasn’t that Eddie held any insecurities against you, oh no. Eddie hadn’t felt any doubt at all when he’d watch your lazy eyes travel over Steve in the heat of a rum soaked bonfire, or when you both went missing in the jungle only to stumble out hours later with moist hair and crumpled clothes.

No, Eddie just wanted the ship running properly, something keenly lacking with Steve’s participation of weak scrubbing. 

‘Well think quieter and…. and over there,’ Eddie gestured to an area across the deck, hoping to garner some amicable space between them both. ‘You missed a spot.’

Steve scoffed, the scrub brush dunked deep into the bucket of dirty water at his feet as he stood up.

‘And what is so funny?’ Eddie sighed, taking in the full height of Steve now opposite him.

‘It’s funny that you think you can actually order me around,’ he quipped around a dry chuckle, no real mirth to it as his eyes steeled.

‘That’s because I can,’ Eddie stated bluntly.

‘Look it’s clear who runs this ship,’ Steve started, fingers running through his sweat slick hair as he brushed it off his face, voice thick with taunting, ‘…it’s Pete and Mae. You’re just a straggler, a follower.’

‘The fact that you’ve been with us for this long, and you’re still blind to what this crew does, is ridiculous,’ Eddie shook his head, swallowing a snarl before he lifted his head. ‘But that’s besides the point - if I’m just a straggler, then what the fuck are you?’

‘Look I know a hell of a lot more about authority than you do,’ Steve began to brag, the harshness of the sun heating his words with every bite. ‘You know back in my Kingdom, my father - the King, would regularly charge me with operations much larger than this.’

‘Of horses, not boats,’ Eddie cautioned, stunning Steve for a second as his stomach soured at the notion that perhaps Eddie knew more about him than he gave credit for.  

‘Regardless,’ Steve continued unfazed, ‘the matter is that I simply know more than you, and purely by that fact, have a higher standing.’

‘You think that just because you’re a Prince it entitles you to know everything?’ Eddie chortled, ‘You know nothing.’

Steve bristled. ‘I know, that pirates would have never cursed my kingdom if it wasn’t-‘

‘-it wasn’t for us two, I know. You hold your grudges.’

‘I was going to say if it wasn’t for some fucking runaway princess who’d decided to stow away in my bay, and yet here I am,’ Steve spat. ‘Stuck on a boat in the middle of fucking nowhere while my kingdom is smothered in ashes, stuck with you.’

Eddie’s hackles rose immediately. Not at the insult of his own company, but at the arrogance Steve’s words held as he spoke unknowingly about you.

‘That runaway princess has probably done more in her life than you could have ever dreamed of doing in your own pathetic reign, had you ever reached that throne,’ Eddies hissed, nose scrunching in disgust as he stepped closer to Steve with a whisper. ‘A throne doesn’t mean anything.’

‘A throne means everything,’ Steve fumed, openly irate now. ‘A throne helps keep peace, protects its people…’

‘It did a grand job of protecting them when Blackbeard came didn’t it?’ Eddie uttered, the words striking at Steve with a white hot precision.

Eddie was stoking the fire, poking the bear, he knew it. He knew how desperately Steve wished to hear of news that his parents where safe, throne be damned.

‘From what I’ve been told, the throne ran away,’ Eddie taunted, taking advantage of Steve’s momentary silence. ‘Escaped through a back passage. Abandoned its people in their time of need-‘

Eddie’s jaw cracked from the impact of Steve’s knuckles before they stumbled back, a wildfire in their eyes as they stared at each other.

Eddie spat to the side, a dribble of blood being wiped from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand as a grin spread over his bloody lips.

‘Oh there it is.’

~ ~ ~

‘Er… pet? You wouldn’t ’appen to know wha’s come ov’r your boys would’ya?’ Pete yelled down to you from the deck above, his words reaching your ears as you suddenly looked up towards him. 

‘My… what?’ You responded in complete confusion before you heard it.

The broken grunts and sloppy thumps flitted down from the deck now, your legs moving you quickly as you climbed the rungs of the ladder to the surface.

‘-head so far up your own ass, perhaps you’d notice that it’s because she trusts me more,’ Steve grunted through the sound of him throwing a punch. 

‘Trusts you? The only person that she has ever trust, is me,’ Eddie growled through gritted teeth.

‘Oh really, is that so?’

Their shouts grew louder as you cleared the cargo bay and rounded along the lower deck, the sun streaming through the crate hatches above as you ran towards the nearest exit, fingers curling around the next ladder as you hoisted yourself to the surface. 

‘Who helped get her out of the palace huh?’ Steve taunted, their feet creaking along the wooden boards as if they were now circling each other.

‘Her. All her. No doubt about it,’ Eddie exclaimed, his tone unwavering.

You could feel the sun on your face as you pushed to breach, blinding you slightly as you swayed to your feet.

‘At least you’re correct in that it wasn’t you,’ Steve retorted, lunging with another punch which Eddie swiftly batted away.

‘Well I’ve already helped her escape one palace Steve,’ he confessed through a bloody grimace and soured tongue. ‘Perhaps it was easier for her this time because no one knew that she was a fucking princess.’

Thick silence enveloped the deck as quickly as a whirlpool. The bruised knuckles of the boys hung limply at their sides, Eddies eyes wide with rage and regret as Steve stood still and confused.

‘She-‘ Steve gulped, chest heaving as he regained what little strength he had left. ‘What?’

‘Shit,’ was all Eddie could murmur under his breath, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he staggered his weight between his legs, exhausted.

The crying creak of a wooden board beneath your foot gave you away, their eyes, as well as everyone else on deck shooting your way as a hundred silent questions bombarded your vision.

Shit.

Chapter Text

‘You’re a … you’re the princess?’ Steve gulped, his face paling at the realisation.

The weight of a thousand suns burned your being, sitting on your shoulders and pulsing against your cheeks as your skin bloomed red. Your vision blackened at the edges for a heartbeat, the warbling motion of your crews faces blurring in front of you as your eyes darted about. 

The truth was out. The jig was up. Everyone you cared about now knew the deepest secret you’d kept hidden from them.

Eddie started to make his way closer, his face apprehensive as your name tumbled from his lips like a prayer. 

‘I’m so sorry,’ his eyes pleaded with you, his voice numbed by the blood rushing in your ears. His hands lifted up, gingerly reaching for your arms that hung heavy by your sides.

Steve’s eyes widened impossibly further at your silence, as if your wordless response was answer enough. The soft nudge of Eddie’s touch at your elbow brought you staggering back to reality, your vision clearing now as air suddenly found your lungs. 

As you suddenly remembered to breathe. 

It didn’t come as a shock that the first direction your gaze shot to was the ship, Pete perching proudly on a nearby barrel as his face softened. There was no anger there, and he seemed indifferent with a casual shrug. 

You’d lied to this crew for all those years, and all Pete could offer you with your life changing secret was a shrug? You couldn’t decide if you were more upset or angry. 

‘I didn’t mean to, it just came out-‘

‘I’ll deal with you in a moment,’ you cursed, harshly staring at Eddie for a second before catching Steve’s eye. 

All those months of him speaking to you like you were just a pirate; the lack of etiquette, the lack of formality. It all came rushing back to the prince as he stared at the pirate he’d fallen for. 

He’d grown to know you as Mae - a fearless, knife wielder who’d steal food and hearts… not some secret royal that had an armada hunting her down and destroying anything she touched. 

Steve couldn’t determine whether this rage he felt derived from some deep seated insecurity, or humiliation that he hadn’t realised any of this sooner.

‘Follow me,’ you directed at Steve curtly before you descended below the deck, Eddie tucking in behind the prince as the three of you stepped into the shadows and away from prying eyes.

Your cabin sat too far away for how urgently this conversation needed to be sliced into silence, and so you decided that the ship’s belly below would have to do.

You eventually paused in a wonky triangle, wooden posts housing leaning shoulders as you all faced each other, Steve suddenly inhaling sharply once you were far enough away.

‘You’re a princess,’ Steve stated plainly, arms crossed as he stared you down. 

‘Was,’ you corrected monotonously, one eyebrow raising in challenge as you held your tongue and simmering wrath. 

‘No, you have royal blood,’ Steve spat, blinking furiously, ‘therefore you are a princess whether you like it or not.’

Just from his tone you could see his stance, and it clearly did not align with yours. 

‘Blood means nothing,’ you said through thin, tight lips, the restraint over your words clear as Eddie watched you from the side. 

‘Okay so you… you just ran away then?’ Steve licked his lips, brows dancing into his hairline. ‘Because you didn’t want to be a royal?’

‘Yes.’ It was the simplest answer.

‘That’s so … childish,’ Steve scoffed, shifting his weight as his glare remained pinned on you. 

‘I was a child!’ Your voice rose with insult, tempering down the minute you noticed how Steve barely flinched as his hackles rose. 

‘Your parents probably spent years of their lives preparing you for something that they were unable to get back,’ Steve seethed, his misplaced anger rooting from somewhere too close to home, ‘building something for you-‘

‘I’m sorry, but you’re really going to have to stop talking,’ you somehow got out through grit teeth, the border of your anger threatening to burst. 

‘No I’m serious you just- you were just bored of it?’ He stressed. ‘You just gave it all up because something perhaps got difficult?’

‘No Steve, I gave it up because if I didn’t I would have lost my freedom,’ you finally snapped, your heavy words dulling Steve’s temper and sharp words as he paused.

Eddie had never really pushed for what the tipping point for you was all those years ago. He didn’t need to know.  He would - he has - follow you anywhere, and now he loathed the way Steve’s eyes had softened on you, as if only once everything was plainly laid for him would he be able to see past his narrow mindedness. 

‘The night I fled, I overheard my parents discussing how to move me. How to transport me, as if I were some kind of cattle.’ The disgust in your tone seeped into the shadows of the room. ‘They were going to cart me off to a prince in a neighbouring city.’

Away from Eddie, you thought, eyes drifting over to his doe ones that remained hooked on your every word.

‘You’re making it sound like marriage is awful,’ Steve started, his voice softer now as if he was only hearing you now for the first time. ‘My parents are very happy-‘

‘Yes and different kingdoms have different ways of life,’ you interrupted, sensing already how he would try to rationalise the childhood you’d tried so hard to escape. ‘If I had allowed myself to be sent off, I already knew what my life would be like from my lessons.

‘My entire life would be devoted to making other people happy. Whether it be my parents, or a husband, my choices would no longer be my own. Servitude would be thrust upon me with closed off quarters and forced isolation between summons, and I’d be obligated to birth and raise children only for them to be later ripped away and used as bargaining chips with another kingdom. 

‘I’d not be allowed to speak to anyone, I wouldn’t have friends, wouldn’t have a life, or freedom-‘ you gasped as you ran out of breath, lips dry from the rushed inhale before your eyes rested on Steve’s once more. 

‘That is not a life for anyone. Certainly not for me. No one should have to be sold to another family to appease everyone but themselves.’

‘That wasn’t the way in my kingdom,’ Steve explained with a sad tone. It wasn’t a boast, more of a morose statement, like he was trying to prove a point that not all kingdoms were awful, that not all marriages were awful…

‘Well then you’re very fortunate,’ you responded with a clipped smile. ‘I was never afforded that option of happiness.’

‘So you ran away,’ he concluded slowly, a look crossing his face you never wanted to see again. Pity.

‘I ran away,’ you echoed, calmer now as you could see how Steve understood.

‘And joined a pirate crew,’ Steve continued as you nodded along.

‘Eddie found them,’ you hummed quietly, melancholy seeping in as Steve’s tongue fell still, the jigsaw of your life slowly falling into place before him. By the time he was able to open his mouth with more questions however, you’d already turned away, a glare now fixed on a friendship that spanned far longer than Steve could register.

‘And you-‘ you turned on your heel, stare sharp as it pierced Eddie’s nerves.

‘I’m sorry,’ he pleaded like a mantra, voice impossibly soft and only slightly wavering as you stormed his way with clenched fists.

‘You… idiot,’ you thumped his shoulder, sighing through gritted teeth before your shoulders sagged in defeat, a broken smile coming over you. ‘If your face didn’t look so awful I’d have half a mind to punch it myself.’

Eddie chuckles, hearty and deep as he matches your smile now, the guilt chewing inside lessening at the kindness on your face. You turn to lead him away from the shady room now soaked in secrets, wetting a rag in a bucket fresh from the sea to clean him up, before dabbing it to his face with the precise care you’d honed all these years.

Leaving Steve to all his racing thoughts.

~ ~ ~

‘So I take it you didn't meet Mae on the ship then,’ Steve asked, the question posed as more of a statement than query as he dropped onto a barrel next to Eddie.

It was a few hours later, the wind colder now the sun had dipped, and you had spent most of the afternoon answering a barrage of questions from the crew - something you offered so that the topic would never be a focus again.

Eddie sat on the outskirts grappling with the liability he was today, watching you with a fondness Steve envied.

‘I was a stable hand for her fathers kingdom,’ Eddie replied openly, his words not holding the usual bite they did when directed at the prince.

Steve recalled his father bragging about the new pirates, how one excelled amongst the horses. It hadn’t made sense at the time - very little about pirates did to Steve, that’s why he was so intrigued by you - but now it did. 

‘When you’re summoned by a king to teach his daughter how to ride, you can’t say no,’ Eddie resumed, taking Steve’s thoughtful silence as a cue to go on. ‘I thought I was to be lumped with some stuck up snob, but then Mae… Mae turned up.’ 

He inhaled deeply for a second, a smile hidden at the corner of his lips. ‘And she doesn’t have a single ounce of snob in her.’

‘So you taught her how to ride horses?’ Steve asked after a breath.

‘Taught her how to ride, taught her how to care for them,’ Eddie began to ramble. ‘Taught her how to hide from her father in all fairness.’

‘She is very good at hiding,’ Steve agreed with a quiet chuff.

‘And she taught me how to read, how to dance, how to blend in at places I didn’t belong.’

A wispy memory of him hiding in clear sight at the edges of a ballroom swallowed him, waiting to whisk you away as soon as your parents attention was occupied.

‘Did she teach you how to fight as well?’ Steve asked, only a slight teasing tone to his words as Eddie chuckled. 

‘Nah that was all Pete. We’d never held anything larger than a knife before we joined the crew. It was Pete who trained us with swords,’ Eddie’s head lifting at the end, catching sight of the man in question hovering around you in protection.

‘And daggers,’ Steve added absentmindedly.

The cool metal glinting from your thigh in the afternoon sun. The slither of steel tickling his throat as you pressed it deeper in warning. The hilt of a dagger tight in your grip as you danced around him.

‘And daggers,’ Eddie mumbled, taking a sip from the small cup he cradled before placing it on the surprisingly stable deck. ‘She could barely lift a sword at first. We were so small,’ Eddie explained, laughing to himself. ‘But we trained, and we got better, and we learned how to defend ourselves and help the crew. Soon enough, this was the only family we knew.’

‘Did you leave anyone behind in Mae’s kingdom?’ Steve asked, an air of caution around his words as he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect the answer to be. Fear he might be opening a wound that was still as fresh as his.

‘No,’ Eddie said quickly and quietly. ‘Mae was all I had there and she’s all I have here,’ he winced, dabbing a wet cloth to his crinkling cheek as he felt blood start to dribble. 

‘And now she probably hates me for fucking spilling her history,’ he hissed, mostly at himself but the bleeding cut on his cheek was excuse enough.

‘She won’t hate you,’ Steve said with a certainty that even shocked him. You’d hidden so much from him, and yet still he’d defend you with a conviction unearned. ‘I don’t think Mae can hate anyone truly.’

‘She might not have hated her, but she surely had some choice words for one of those ladies she had to work with- what was her name…Constance?’

‘Constance,’ Steve repeated the name as if it tasted of a lifetime ago. ‘Yeah, Mae had her reasons with that one.’

‘Mae always has her reasons,’ Eddie smiled, finishing the drink by his foot before pushing himself to his steady feet, and offering one final glance at Steve before walking away. ‘She always does.’

~ ~ ~

The moonlight was ghosting the deck in a silver light by the time Steve had gained enough courage to talk to you again. Everything that he’d learned that day was in complete contradiction to all his assumptions, and he still couldn’t place whether it was the secrecy that hurt him most, or his own pride.

He found you on a deck near the bow, body leaning over the waist high perimeter of the ship as you silently watched the glittering waves below. Steve knew by the twitch of your hands that you’d heard him approach, but the lack of an insult to his skulking never came.

He didn’t know if that was a good thing or bad thing.

His forearms leant against the wooden railing as he stretched to match you, your body only peeling back from the edge at the clear of his throat.

‘I’m sorry,’ Steve said, steady and sure as he waited for you to turn and look at him.

‘For what?’ You drawled in a tired, bored tone, facing the ocean still as your elbows rested like his.

‘For being blind, being shortsighted,’ Steve vented, ‘only seeing things from my point of view.’

‘That’s an interesting take…’ you paused, tilting your head his way now as if he was on the right track, jutting your chin out to encourage him with the rest of his apology. ‘Well go on.’

Steve chuckled softly before recollecting himself. ‘My parents had always told me that I could marry for love. That I could choose the princess I wanted to be with.’

‘Did the princess have a choice?’ You asked bluntly, wide eyes shot your way in shock as Steve wrung his hands together over the rail.

‘Of course they would have had a choice, gods- no, what I’m trying to say is that marriage to them… to me… was a happy thing, a happy union,’ he finished lowly, gaze caught on his twisted fingers as they matched the churning in his gut. 

It was clear to anyone who watched long enough, of the care and love that Steve still held for his family, his kingdom, his way of life. It likely didn’t mean that the revelation you’d given up a similar life landed well, but at least there was some common ground appearing.

‘But you said it yourself back at the palace, the night of Blackbeard, that there weren’t any princesses in the bay,’ you glanced back out to sea, eyes catching on mingling waves as you slumped further into the conversation.

‘My parents had connections with nearby kingdoms. We’d mingle at balls and banquets, but they weren’t forced proposals or arranged marriages,’ he finished. ‘We both had a choice.’

‘Sounds pleasant,’ you almost grumbled, something akin to jealousy coating your tongue.

‘I never really thought that other kingdoms would do it differently,’ Steve shrugged, eyes falling back on your profile as they skimmed over your softly lit features.

‘That’s an unfortunately optimistic view of the world Steve,’ you finally turned on your heel to look at him… really look at him as you sank into a leaning hip and held his gaze. ‘The world isn’t like that.’

You inhaled sharply, words coming to your tongue before you could stop them. ‘Maybe it was your parents, maybe it’s because you’re a man… but you were very lucky, with your upbringing. It’s… astonishingly clear to me now how sheltered your life must have been and I mean that in a good way, truly, but you can’t afford that luxury now.’

Steve blinked, his life so openly dissected before him something he’d never thought a pirate would be doing for him, no- a lost princess.

‘Have you ever thought about your parents since you left?’ Steve asked instead, voice soft like the moonlight. ‘What they’re like or what they’re doing?’

You sank into the memory of the first port you anchored at after joining the crew all those years ago. Your royal robes had been swapped to rags, and as you stepped off the ship for supplies you were met with a surplus of rich posters that had been slapped all over the town.

MISSING. PRINCESS MARGARET. REWARD IF FOUND.

Smudged small print at the bottom the paper gave the indication the kingdom in question believed she’d been kidnapped in the night, and as you soon found out with any accusations, pirates often made the cut.

‘He’s complain’n that pirates took his lil girl,’ Pete mumbled down his arm to you, catching the way your eyes drifted over the bold lettering, ‘ye’ everyone knows that kingdom’s lan’locked.’

He shook his head in disbelief as he tutted his tongue, a giggle escaping you at his dancing eyebrows. 

‘Some people,’ he shrugged, walking down the path towards the bustling market as you hurried along in tow.

‘Not really. But I think my parents believe I was kidnapped by pirates,’ you chuckled at the thought that had Steve’s brows rising. ‘Which is such a ridiculous prospect because heavens forbid I have thoughts of my own and decide to leave on my own accord.’

He was laughing along with you now, the idea shockingly funny considering the reality.

‘They weren’t half wrong-‘ Steve paused with the glare you shot him, ‘I mean you did join a pirate crew.’

‘That wasn’t entirely my intention. I was simply seeking my freedom, and I just so happened to join a ship crewed by pirates. I would have joined any ship if they would have had me, but girls aren’t often as easily accepted as stowaway boys. We’re lucky Pete took us in,’ you sighed. ‘Besides, Eddie was the one who scouted it out, said this was the safest boat that had docked. And who was I to question him when all he’s done is keep me out of harms way.’

A lingering heartbeat passed before Steve spoke again. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he said calmly.

‘What for this time?’ You quipped, your words holding no real bite to them.

‘Well just… I didn’t know any of this,’ Steve stated, his shoulders sagging as he breathed deeply. ‘And I started a fight with your closest friend.’

‘Well it’s not me you have to apologise to,’ you explained with a nod of your head, Steve responding instantly with a resigned sound.

‘I’ve already spoken to Eddie.’

‘And is the air clear?’ You asked.

‘It is,’ he nodded curtly, eliciting an agreeing nod from yourself.

‘Good.’

The ship rocked with the midnight waves, and with the silky silence another question came to mind. 

‘Why did you start a fight with him?’ 

Steve swallowed thickly, wetting his lips as he clasped his hands, a forced chuckle leaving him.

‘I got cocky, is the simplest answer. And obnoxious and… angry about a princess who had been hiding in my kingdom,’ his eyes lifted to yours for a beat before they found focus on his knuckles. ‘I made some particular comments about her and clearly they did not land well with Eddie. Rightly so ‘cause… I had no idea it was you. Never did and… yeah. Let’s just say tensions ran a little high.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,’ the apology fell smoothly from your lips as Steve shifted his weight, leaning his hip further into the wall that lined his leg.

‘No I … I get it now,’ he sputtered over his words. ‘I see why you couldn’t and why you wouldn’t. It’s just never nice being the last to find out about things.’

‘Well if it makes you feel any better, Eddie was the only person who knew,’ you confessed. ‘You found out at the same time as the rest of this crew did, and let me tell you, you have asked far less questions than they have this afternoon.’

‘I can ask more if you’d like,’ Steve joked, eliciting a genuine smile from you, ‘help even the score?’

You laughed, about to reject the idea before you paused. ‘Well only if you really want to know the answer.’

Steve’s lips parted, a question brewing on his lips that he didn’t look entirely ready to ask, but the words were tumbling out before he could second guess himself.

‘Do you know who told Blackbeard about the missing princess… about you?’ The sobriety of his tone mellowed you, and you held his gaze as you replied.

‘I have a theory. I’m not entirely certain but it makes sense,’ you whispered honestly.

‘Who?’

‘Do you really want to know?’ You asked again.

‘Yes,’ his face showing no signs of hesitation. ‘I would like to know the name of the person you believe is responsible for razing my kingdom to the ground.’

Well when he puts it like that… ‘Constance.’

‘Constance,’ he resigned, the name sour in his mouth as he said it for the second time that day.

‘She always had a vendetta against me,’ you explained, fidgeting with your finger nails without even looking at the picked skin. ‘I think she just really despised pirates.’

‘No it was…. Because of me, I think,’ Steve revealed, his cockiness waning despite his admission.

‘Really?’ Your tone lightening, as if you were mocking him for how highly he thought of himself. It tickled the corner of his lips, a faint smile peeking through at your taunt.

‘I know that look alright, I’m not- look you didn’t know her before you arrived,’ he scoffed, trying to correct the insinuation you had planted. ‘It was… blatant that she was fond of me. And there were times when she would find opportunities for us to be alone under the guise of my mother’s will, but that evidently stopped the minute you joined her staff.’

‘Did you ever court her?’ The question surprised even you, but Steve continued, undeterred with a shake of his head.

‘No. No never, I always made a point of not courting my mothers ladies.’

You rose your eyebrows in question, the same thought crossing Steve before he interjected.

‘And no, I never technically courted you. I showed you that beach because I… well I wanted to…’ he sighed, deep and heavy as if the world’s troubles had suddenly landed on his shoulders. ‘Let’s just say, you would know if I was courting you alright?’

The promise hung like smog between you, hazing the boundaries you’d spent so long building that you almost allowed them to shatter. With the way his brown eyes held yours, his lips curving into a sultry vow. Almost.

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ you smirked, lifting your chin with an indignant look before Steve’s face darkened for a beat.

‘You do know when someone is courting you, right?’ Steve suddenly speculated aloud, teasing you as he found an unnatural strength from within as he straightened with the notion. You swallowed the gasp that threatened to escape at the accusation, levelling a stare that surprisingly did little to wither the prince’s newfound confidence.

‘Just because I’m a pirate, does not mean I don’t know when someone is sharing their affections for me,’ you objected plainly, enunciating your every word in hopes that your pronunciation could deter this line of questioning.

Courting was not an activity amongst pirates. You recalled the days you were taught about it in your lessons as a little girl, but as a pirate- as a woman… the most you’d been courted was a free meal, few drinks, and a warm soft bed for the night.

Not including the time you were shown a private beach… although that did not count, apparently.

‘Is that so?’ Steve pushed, taking a step to close the swaying distance between you both. His fingers stretched out, dancing along the old wood your hand rested atop, and the heat that radiated from him almost had you faltering. Almost.

‘Indeed,’ you declared, cocking an eyebrow that had Steve smiling softly, and leaning down barely with a tip of his head, invading your space, and your thoughts.

‘Well I guess I’ll take your word for it,’ he echoed your words back in to the night, and damn that smile that suddenly surged butterflies into your stomach.

He was hovering, leaning, teasing your space as his eyes landed heavily on every breath that left your lips, and you couldn’t determine if he was still with you here, or reminiscing over an alleyway you two had once occupied. The vision teetered on the edge of your mind, and you almost found yourself leaning in anew.

‘Well goodnight Steven,’ you chose instead, tightening your lips as you took a measured back before skirting around him.

‘Goodnight Princess,’ he called back.

Almost.

Chapter Text

‘I had no idea that this was here…’ Steve gaped, his eyes glued to every twitch and turn of the joint that thrived around him, ‘that this existed.’

After a night of navigating the stars, the crew had proudly managed to steer the ship towards a port they’d long called home. A port that was never marked on trading routes, welcomed every colour and creed and to any passing ships looked entirely unremarkable. A port domesticated by pirates. Tortuga.

‘That’s the point,’ Pete sniffed pointedly, winking at the bar maid as she set down mugs of froth in the middle of the long table you all sat along. ‘No one’s s’pposed to know.’

‘So hush hush,’ you whispered to Steve at your side, nudging his shoulder with yours as you chanced a grin at Eddie who sat opposite with Pete, returning their own smiles in kind.

The establishment sat tucked back from the waters edge, the oozing warmth attracting anyone close enough. The large room was filled with rows of logged tables lined by benches, stretching across each side. Crackling fires dotted themselves throughout, clogging the air with a warming smoke as live music from a folk crew roared at one end on a slightly raised platform. The air was thick with people and sticky with bliss, and with a clattering of coins scattering across the table top another round was soon filling everyone’s empty hands a little later.

‘Excuse me lads,’ Dickie sniffed before eyeing you a second later, ‘lady.’ He climbed over the bench, straightening his collar before he walked over to a scantily clad woman hovering at the bottom of some stairs. He’d been watching her all night, as were most of the men in the building with the pretty people dotted around the edges, and soon enough they were both racing up the stairs, a few other members of the crew wandering off at their own intervals too.

‘Any fair maiden’s takin’ your eye Steven?’ Pete asked from across the table.

Steve was already struggling with the crew, and with his latest bust up with Eddie very few were offering him the time this evening. Pete however, the ever diplomat extended a branch, opening the conversation to include the lonesome prince currently silent at your side.

‘Any- what?’ He asked, slightly perplexed. 

‘He means is there anyone you’d like to bed tonight?’ Eddie added a little bluntly, raising his voice to tarnish the waiver in his own.

Steve’s arms burned from the proximity of your own. ‘If I should be so fortunate.’

‘Lola’s the best,’ you interjected, raising a finger nonchalantly at a redhead in the corner.

Steve stared at you slightly open mouthed, and if your mind had been completely swaddled by booze you would have almost leaned forward and stolen his lips again.

‘Delia too, from what I hear,’ you continued, gesturing to a blonde by the bar, Steve still silent.

‘To be fair all the girls are worth their coin ten times over, from what I hear,’ you now cast a look over at Eddie who didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

‘It’s a brothel?’ Steve asked, brows bunching together as he registered the domain.

‘It’s an ever’thing,’ Pete answered, ‘s’got food, drinks, beds and company - all things sometimes miss’n when at sea.’

‘I see,’ Steve hummed in thought.

A lulling beat soon came over the folk band, the usual staccato violin and plucky whistle taken over by a rich and soothing voice that sang over the top of a snappy melody. The noise had your head turning and your eyes softening in comfort at the sound of the singer. 

‘Oh she’s amazing,’ you groaned before turning back to the table. ‘I didn’t know they were touring again. I’m surprised she was able to find us with all those Naval guards hovering about now.’

‘So she’s a bard,’ Steve questioned, an indignant look painting your features as you stared at him.

‘She’s a spectacle, Steve,’ you declared, taking a hefty sip of your drink as he chuckled.

‘It sounds like you want to take her to bed.’

‘I would,’ you mumbled around the rim of your mug.

‘She did,’ Eddie joined in, smirking at you with a look only he could offer.

‘You-‘ Steve’s lips pursed into a poised question, heavy with confusion as you lit up at the adorable expression on his face. 

‘What, you think the only options I have here are all you drunk men?’ You sniggered, Eddie effortlessly interjecting with a lift of his own drink.

‘It hasn’t stopped you before.’

‘Bernardo was gorgeous okay,’ you gushed, your blood now half booze as you blinked slowly. ‘Plus he was Italian. And his ship was literally loaded with tomatoes,’ you finished almost excitedly.

‘You do like ‘em tomatoes,’ Pete mumbled in understanding.

‘You slept with someone… for tomatoes?’ Steven’s brows scrunched together even more.

‘No, I fucked him because he was pretty,’ you blurted out with little grace and no shame. ‘The tomatoes were just a perk.’

‘You always did like ‘em pretty boys.’

‘Or girls,’ Eddie added with a smirk. 

Eddie was the prettiest you silently concluded. Although why did that feel like a partial lie with Steve sat so close to you?

‘And he thought I was pretty too so,’ you shrugged casually, as if that was all it required for two people to fall into bed with each other. 

‘Only a fool would be too blind to see your fair looks love,’ Pete slurred, a giddy hiccup escaping you at the compliment.

‘I think you’re pretty,’ Steve thought, as you chanced a glance his way and thought the same, ignoring the guilt your stomach felt at your newly acquired feelings. 

‘Besides, a brothel is for everyone,’ you stressed pointedly, as you finished what was left in your drink.

‘You never thought of being with men?’ Eddie asked curiously, his gaze pointedly watching Steve as he circled the rim of his cup with feigned innocence.

He blinks, before he composes himself with a straighter back. ‘I guess I can say I’ve only found interest in beautiful things.’

It takes all of Steve’s power not to look your way in earnest.

‘Men can be beautiful too,’ you murmured into your elbow with a smothered burp, as Pete glanced at you with a soft smile. 

‘Here here,’ he lifted his mug before downing the rest. 

‘And Pete is the most lovely of them all,’ you grinned, no haughtiness or deceit in your words.

‘Too right pe’,’ he smiled, before offering his hand over the table, and whisking you off to the dance floor where the room was beginning to swell. 

The space between Steve and the crew had grown indefinitely. Even with Eddie affirming to everyone that the fight was resolved, and the two of them were amicable, it meant nothing to the others.

To them, trust was to be earned, and all that he had barely accrued had washed away the moment he beat up their brother.

The physical gap along the bench between the prince and a small mingling group was almost too painful to watch, and begrudgingly Eddie circled around, stealing your seat as he sat with his back against the table, watching the dance brewing in the centre of the room.

‘I thought you said you’d speak to them,’ Steve gestured his head to the crew still plainly rejecting him.

‘I did,’ Eddie shrugged, arms crossed over his chest as he relaxed with his legs stretched out, ‘not my fault I’m so deeply loved by all,’ he grinned.

‘Fair enough,’ Steve wallowed with a grimace, taking a tentative sip of his drink.

‘It’s not poisoned,’ Eddie chuckled, noticing how he was barely keeping up with all the other drunkards. ‘I know this way of life is a far cry from what you’re used to but you can’t go insulting fine ale like this if you wish to stay with us.’

‘I’m not insulting it,’ Steve’s hands lifted in argument, ‘it’s just… it’s different from what I’m used to.’

‘Let me guess,’ Eddie sniffed, ‘your drinks were often sourced from the finest brewery in town, only curated by a monastery that had been making ale for centuries.’

The joke landed flatly when Steve pursed his lips. ‘I prefer wine.’

‘Wine?’ Eddie almost stuttered, turning a little more in his seat to face him. ‘You’re not gonna find that out here, believe me.’

‘Oh trust me, I believe you,’ Steve chuckled, Eddie joining in. ‘Once you’ve tried it though, it’s difficult to go back-‘

‘Alright, enough talk about your fancy fuck wine,’ Eddie groaned, passing Steve his drink, ‘finish that, and then finish another, and then we’ll talk about good drinks.’

‘Alright then,’ Steve laughed, choking slightly when Eddie’s knuckle nudged the base of the mug up, forcing more liquid to pass his lips in a mess.

‘There we go.’

‘-trying to kill me,’ Steve spluttered, wiping his mouth and chin.

‘No trust me. Not allowed to do that, Mae’s orders.’

Mae’s orders, Steve hummed to himself. Despite him attacking your best friend, you’d still ordered the crew to leave him unharmed. 

In a blur another round had graced the table, Eddie slotting a mug into Steve’s hold before clinking it with his own in a clumsy cheers, and for a moment, Steve could see why Eddie was liked by so many.

‘Drink up, we gotta get you drunk so you can stop talking about all the wine nonsense alright?’

‘Okay,’ Steve chuckled, finally turning in his seat to copy Eddie, legs extending out towards the dance floor where you had effortlessly woven into a sea of people, linking arms and spinning into infinity.

‘She’s an enigma, isn’t she?’ Steve murmured mostly to himself. It was simply the first thing that came to mind as he watched you.

‘I’ve no fuckin’ clue what an emiga is,’ Eddie hiccuped, ‘but she’s the true spectacle tonight.’

The affection in Eddies words simply had the prince agreeing, both of them silently observing you as you stole the room.

You’re dancing and free and Steve sees a side to you in public he’s never witnessed. He’d seen you pose in his mothers court, the way you’d hide amongst local markets. He thought he had seen you truly yourself amongst your crew, and there may be some truth in that, but here, in this tavern, with music coursing through your blood and drink stretching your smile, you were ethereal. Weightless. Unleashed.

Steve got lost in the hall of light that encompassed you as you spun on the spot, your crew spinning you under their arms as the folk band started another tune at a faster speed.

He simply soaked it all in, head tilting momentarily before the chagrin started to seep through. It was so obvious that you were of royal heritage, and Steve had been so blind to miss it. 

The way silk flowed off your body with grace, the way that your dance moves were a mockery of a minuet, your poise, your voice, your everything. All shrouded in a pirates shell.

The dance has twirled you to its edges, your excitement latching onto Eddie as you rush over. You rob him of his drink in hand, downing the dregs as it dribbles out the corner of your mouth before you’re slamming it to the table and yanking Eddie to his feet, a charge brewing in the room as another song starts.

And once more, Steve is left watching you and Eddie dance together.

It was so clear how you were both brought up now, each of you living vicariously through the other. Your entire structured, educated life filtered down into Eddie as his freedom and break of traditions swaddled you. 

You were like coffee beans and vanilla seeds, a synergy of smoke and sweetness, darkness and sunlight, mixing and moulding and becoming something entirely new, indistinct, and your own. And you both savoured it, dancing with each other with little care and too much poise as you danced a ceilidh entirely wrong but on beat. 

The dance soon spits Pete out, allowing him to hobble back to the table, a kind smile offered to Steve as he nears and settles into your warm seat. 

‘So how long have you truly known Mae then?’ Steve asks casually, handing Pete a damp mug as a true smile came over his face, as he sank back in to the memory.

‘Thanks,’ he murmured, sipping the drink before cradling it in one hand. ‘She was only yay high when she came to us,’ Pete’s free palm flattens out from his chest, raising barely a few feet from the ground.

‘So you’re not mad that she lied to you?’ Steve questioned, watching as Pete turned to him with a face of bewilderment.

‘Now why on earth would I be mad?’ His face sharing no tells of uncertainty or hesitance, only a kind look to what a father would share for a daughter.

‘Because,’ Steve pressed, jutting his eyebrows up in scrutiny.

‘She was just a lil girl who was scared,’ Pete answered calmly and composed. ‘And look at who she’s grown’up to be eh?’

A proud feeling creeps up his spine as he takes a moment to watch you and Eddie, Steve simply silent at the edge in hopes of hearing more.

‘I might not have any children,’ Pete mutters wistfully, ‘but I’ll be damned if I don’t think of ‘em as my own.’

~ ~ ~

The night mellows, and the entirety for Steve has been mostly watching how you behave with Eddie. An eternal love that is clear to all but that neither of you would breach. And then he thinks about how you behaved around him.

You’d blended so well in court, he felt like a fool to not realise that a pirate couldn’t be so well educated to last so long. A sickness coated his tongue as he squirmed in his thoughts, and he sank deeper into the ugliness, settling in the sludge that questioned who you really were, surrounded by his empty cups.

You were a princess turned pirate turned lady… no wait. 

You were from a palace, to a boat, to another palace..?

He couldn’t comprehend how you could zigzag between the two completely different personalities with ease, to fool him. To fool everyone. Despite piracy running thick in your bones here, how many of these true friends understood you were a princess. That your kingdom was the one hunting them all?

It was as he stood to find another drink, intoxicated by his thoughts that you crossed his path, beaming up at him as you unknowingly could not quell the queasiness within him.

The pluck of the cello in the corner sunk deep into a heavy bass, a beat that rattled within your chest as it rang out across the floor.

‘You having fun?’ you grinned at him, gappy from glee as you skidded to a stop at his side. 

Nothing seemed to rattle you quite like Steve’s glare though. Especially the one he had pinned on you now. His fingers drunkenly pawned at the lower frill of your corset, the very material you’d escaped his home wearing as his hooded eyes levelled you with a harshness he’d never donned before.

‘Seems you just keeping swapping sides whenever it suits you,’ Steve got out, clearing his throat as you gaped at him.

‘What-‘

‘You can’t decide on what you want to be,’ he croaked through loose lips, your hands clambering over his chest to usher him into a quiet corner.

‘My allegiance is to my freedom,’ you spat out in a rush, cutting him off before he muttered too much more, ‘whether that means being a pirate, or by bating my time and pretending to be a lady of court.’

‘You are a lady of court,’ Steve implored drunkenly, his round eyes finding yours and melting a moment when they met. The intensity of your stare had him faltering though, and despite the drunken haze, he could still tell there was no convincing you.

‘A summer under your mother’s service does not make me a Queens lady,’ you hissed, tone as sharp as the dagger wrapped at your hip.

‘Then what the hell were you?’ Steve rasped, ‘you… we spent moons together, an entire summer, and yet I never really knew you did I?’

‘I was a pirate,’ you replied immediately, correcting yourself a moment later. ‘I am a pirate, always have been, always will.’

‘Except you weren’t, were you-‘

‘Keep. Your. Tongue. Still,’ you warned, the metal of your dagger unsheathed and pressed into the hollow of Steve’s neck. He wasn’t entirely surprised by the action, a common occurrence for the time he’d known you, but the anger was soon draining from him when he caught the hurt in your eyes as they eased.

‘My freedom will always be my priority, and I will do whatever I must to ensure I keep it. I have done things I’m not always proud of. I’ve lied, but I’ve survived and I’ve stayed sane,’ you explained for what Steve took to be the final time. 

‘How many times must I repeat myself before you start to understand?’ Your brows furrowed in panic, silencing him long enough to drag your dagger away and to take a measured step back.

It was only as you scurried off and turned a corner did Steve find his breath, a thick lump that remained tight in his chest as he let you leave.

Eddie found you a heartbeat later, skirting the edges of the darkening alcove as he neared.

‘There you are princess,’ he murmured, the term of endearment holding none of the hidden slander the word now held when it fell from Steve’s lips.

Lips that plague your dreams and entice you in, but now only spout hatred and prejudice for a past you’d tried to erase. 

Eddie’s lips, who look soft, untouched, and entirely kissable as he grins at you.

‘You alright?’ He asks, hands familiarly finding purchase on your waist as he holds you in front, and soon your hands are dancing up his chest, up his neck, the stubble along his jaw biting into your fingertips as you suddenly crave him.

Eddie’s eyes who are as dark as chocolate and just as enticing, hooking you deep as you struggle to tear your gaze away from his face.

And as if your face is falling as deep as your thoughts, Eddie simply copies, the lines in his smile smoothing out as he stares at you concerned.

‘What’s going on?’ He mumbles, hands coming to your cheeks to cup them closer. As though by physically holding your smooth, burning cheeks he could understand all and slay any inner demons.

In truth, it partly worked, but the heat from his palms has you reeling and he steals your entire peripheral and mind with so little effort.

Eddie who has never questioned you; not without cause and certainly without integrity. 

Eddie who has been with you throughout it all, who’s never left you behind or judged you for your past.

Eddie who you’ve loved since forever, a barrelling surging love that’s all encompassing as he keeps you in his hold and his vicinity.

Eddie who-

‘Mae?’ Your name, as sweet as sugar tumbles from his parted lips as you finally crash back into reality.

‘Eddie,’ you smile, fingers coiling around his collar before you tug him to your lips.

Eddie who you kiss as everything else falls away.

Chapter Text

It takes Eddie a heartbeat to realise what is happening, your soft lips pressing firmly against his before it clicks. Another heartbeat and he’s pushing back earnestly, hands solidifying against your hips as he anchors you in and keeps you close. A third heartbeat and he’s tugging you hard, chasing your lips as you gasp out a noise that he instantly swallows with his mouth, a heated game of push and pull between you now.

The darkness shrouding you both offers a brief respite of privacy, only a stumbling idiot crashing into a table close by dragging you from the daze. Your eyes remain hooked on one another, a silent question hung and answered between you before his hand fumbles for yours and drags you out into the dwindling street outside.

Not even the moonlight could temper the fizz in your fingers, in your teeth, in your knees… every step that Eddie silently tugs you along has you almost running to catch up. You were half surprised to reach the boat undetected, the establishment likely to house most, if not all, of the crew tonight, and as you clamber along the planted boarding bridge, you almost giggle at how isolated the two of you feel as soon as your boots touched the deck.

He pauses under the moon then, hovering in your space as his doe eyes silently ask the question again, his fingers pawning at your cheek and bottom lip as you melt into the touch. Eddie dips down, slotting his lips against yours as your silhouettes dance along the deck before he draws back, smiling down at you in that way that has all his dimples show, and then you both rush below deck, to an empty cabin.

His dexterous fingers make easy work of the casual corset you’d tied around the baggy shirt, your own easily fumbling his belt and stays off his hips. His knuckles catch on your hardening nipples through the thin fabric, corset collapsing to the ground as Eddie takes an impossible step closer.

‘Is this okay?’ He asks, voice rough with want as his eyes find yours again.

‘Mhmm,’ you swallow thickly, his touch sending a jolt to your core as you kiss him.

Hands roamed over rippling bodies, clothes pooling in a pile on the floor as you toppled into bed. The glow from the moon streamed through a small porthole, skimming over your skin as you writhed against each other under the wispy sheets. The buzz from booze fuelled you to forget silence, reminded you that the ship was empty and your cries and moans of pleasure ruptured. 

Eddie’s weight had you pressed deep into the lumpy mattress with every thrust, your hips meeting his as hungry lips sought yours in the dimming light, swallowing every whimper and whine as the knot in you tightened, taught and tense before it finally snapped, and you tumbled over into an ocean of bliss, Eddie following right after before you collapsed into the afterglow of sleep.

The peachy sunlight of dawn tickles your faces as you wake hours later.

The warmth of your nude bodies had let you sink into a slumber with little worry, the spindly blanket you’d both thrown yourselves under now doing little to hide the goosebumps that litter your arms, and as you stir awake, the weight of your actions from last night pin you down.

You’re naked… next to Eddie. Eddie.

Eddie who you had drunkenly kissed last night under the tendrils of wrath that Steve had cursed upon you. Steve who had thrown caution to the wind likewise, challenging your morals and churning your emotions and yet still… you can’t help but think about.

Why on this blue earth were you thinking about that obnoxious prince whilst you lay bare next to Eddie? Childhood-deep, tirelessly-loved, unnervingly-casual Eddie?

Eddie who speaks first, rolling onto his side to face you as he watches you warily.

‘G’morning,’ he croaks before he clears his throat, your head turning to match him as you smile sweetly, the whirlpool of thoughts pacifying at the site of his cocoa eyes.

‘Good morning.’ Everything clears for a brief, clarifying moment, spite leaving the spaces between your thoughts, and it leaves just enough room for doubt to creep its way in.

Despite your every childhood wish seemingly coming true overnight, you can’t help the pinch of guilt that coils around your chest, clenching with every forced reminder that this is what you had always dreamed of. 

Eddie stares at you for another breath, sinking into the memory of the night prior as he chooses his next words, but you’re already speaking before he has a chance.

‘Last night was great,’ you start, inhaling sharply for a pause, ‘but-‘

‘Oh thank gods,’ Eddie sighs instantly, your brows pinching as you observe how he closes his eyes in what looks like relief and for some unknown reason the notion doesn’t rack you with concern. It lightens you; humours you. He realises what he’s said a beat later, glancing back at the confusion on your face as he backtracks. ‘No I don’t mean that in a bad way.’

‘Well how do you mean it then?’ You’re smirking now, calming the surge of panic that had bubbled inside Eddie’s chest as you roll onto your side to mirror him.

‘No I- I just meant like… I mean-um…’ he falters, ‘what were you saying?’

You giggle, dragging the corners of his lips up with the sound as he breathes out.

‘I love you,’ you say, pausing as if allowing the statement to stay whole on its own.

‘I love you too,’ Eddie whispers, reaching for your fingers that had wrinkled into the sheets between your chests.

‘And I’ll always love you,’ you sigh, ‘but last night… I think it should stay a one time thing.’

‘I thought you said it was great,’ Eddie teases as he watches your cheeks redden.

‘And it was,’ you correct, eyeing him a moment, ‘I mean…at least for me, I can’t speak on your behalf-‘

‘Okay, well let me confirm that I also thought it was great,’ he murmurs, fingers absentmindedly stroking along the sheet wrapped along your collar bone.

‘But our friendship means too much to me,’ you finally got out. ‘And if we introduce another dynamic into this then it will just complicate everything so much more.’

An unspoken dynamic coloured by a pretentious prince hiding behind your words.

‘No I- I get it,’ he nods along, palm finding your bare shoulder as he strokes along your morning skin. 

‘Besides,’ he adds after a moment of quiet, ‘I don’t believe that last night was entirely my doing.’

‘Excuse me?’ Your face pinches in confusion as Eddie sighs, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

‘Last night we were drunk…really drunk. And we’ve been like that before but we’ve never…’ he swallows, choosing his next words. ‘It’s never lead to…this,’ his fingertips dig gently into into the flesh of your arm, grounding you both into the situation. ‘And while I don’t regret last night one bit-‘

‘Me neither,’ you add, the words not entirely false.

‘It kinda makes me think that something happened, to make… that happen.’

More like someone. And yet it still surprises you that Eddie is the one to point this out before you’d registered it fully yourself. You don’t realise you were holding your breath while absorbing your truth until you suddenly inhaled, as if ready to fight your case but Eddies smile eases you once more.

‘You don’t have to explain,’ he calms you, ‘I just… I love you,’ he repeats again, ‘and I agree that our friendship is more important.’

‘I love you too,’ you murmur softly, the blanket itching between you as you calm further into the mattress, as if with Eddie’s agreement you can finally relax.

‘It wouldn’t be fair to the crew either, you know,’ Eddie quips, his tone lighter as if preparing for a brilliant joke.

‘Exactly,’ you admit, mildly distracted by your own mind.

‘And then I’d just have to deal with Dickie and Pete bragging about how they were right-‘

‘Wait what?’ You smile coyly, attention caught once more as Eddie chuffs.

‘Well it’s no secret to the ship that we’re close sweetheart,’ his hand presses into the nape of your back, tugging you closer as your fingers rest against his warm, beating chest. ‘And don’t get me wrong, while last night was… incredible,’ he sighs deeply, his teasing tone colouring the honesty of his following words, ‘I just don’t want to give them the satisfaction of thinking they were right all this time.’

You scoff dramatically, looking up at him through your eyelashes as he grins down.

‘So you’d rather not be with your best friend purely because your pride would be wounded by your crew mates?’ You join in, thankful for the tint taking over the conversation.

‘No I’d rather not be with my best friend because that’s what we’re better as, princess,’ he breathes, settling into your space once more as his eyes darken a fraction. ‘And if you ever want another night, fuck, I’m not going to say no,’ he chuckles, ‘but it would be best to not… rock the boat so to say.’

‘Agreed,’ you whisper quietly, tracking the way his eyes remain on your lips.

‘Fuck,’ he grunts, low and deep in his throat before he relinquishes that last fraying tether to his control and plants one final, fiery kiss to your lips. You gasp, the draw to his lips difficult to pull away from.

‘For the ship,’ he chokes as he pulls away.

‘For the ship.’

The morning sun soon kisses your burning cheeks as you lean against the bow, watching as your muddled, grumbling crew stumble back onto the ship in a steady trickle. You nod as they board, your eyes lingering a little longer on a tousled prince who has a canteen hanging in his loose grip.

He smiles weakly as he sways on deck, trying his best to wander over to you, and you genuinely fear his sea legs for the day as he stumbles along the firmly level space. 

‘Morning,’ he gets out as he grips a nearby post, a ginger smile crawling to your lips as you look up at him.

‘Good morning,’ you say cheerily, his nose scrunching a little at the pitch. 

‘I take it you had a good night then?’ He asks, eyes drifting over your face as you swallow the lump in your throat.

‘Mhmm,’ you nod, hands on your hips as you nod at Pete passing by. ‘You?’

‘Can’t remember much,’ he groans honestly, and a tightness releases in your chest at the words.

‘Oh really?’

Your tone has him straightening up, and his eyes narrow on you. ‘Is there something I should be remembering or…?’ He trails off for a moment, resting in the daylight that your smile offers.

‘No,’ you half lie, ‘no just… it’s probably a good thing if you don’t remember your first night in Tortuga.’

He half smiles at your words, a curiosity on his tongue as he can’t take his eyes off of you. As if seeing your face again had sparked the remnants of a conversation in his mind, shrouded by a booze fuelled fog that’s barely penetrable. 

‘Did we-’ he pauses, tasting the question before he spoke, ‘did we… talk last night?’

You can’t decide on what you want to be. What the hell were you? I never really knew you did I…

‘Only a little,’ you hide your grimace, expertly shifting your focus to the sun and crew in aid of a distraction. Something Steve’s addled mind easily follows and accepts.

‘Okay then,’ he chuffs, sounding relieved as if there were more words on his tongue he’d feared had left him.

Yet despite the sourness to his words the night before, you struggle to hold him in contempt for them. 

You struggle to fight the heat that pinkens your cheeks as he smiles at you. You struggle to fight the churn in your stomach as he pats your shoulder in comfort while he passes. You struggle to fight the softness on your face afterwards, a softness that dons your features going forward after any interaction with the prince.

A softness that Eddie notices. A softness that you no longer held for him.

~ ~ ~

Weeks pass and autumn soon bleeds its chill into the breeze, cooling the days sun and sharpening the nights nip. The crew had calmed since Tortuga, a few more port stops since allowing them the chance to share the responsibility of having Steve shadow them, regardless of how much he naturally gravitated towards you, and even Eddie.

The prickle of wind forced those on night watch to wrap up with extra rags, the cold heightening one night when a dense fog suddenly surrounds the ship with a speed unrivalled.

Pete straightened from his spot, Steve following his eye line as they stared out at the blurred waters now, silver moonlight thinning among the sails.

‘What’s wrong?’ Steve asked uncertain, his survival skills at sea still not entirely honed.

Pete stepped forward, hands bracing against the side as he struggled to see past the mast now, the fog so thick it was as if the ship was sailing through clouds.

‘Pete?’

‘Fogs ne’er good lad,’ he murmured back, voice measured as his eyes remained fixed on the wisps of smoke that moved with the wind.

‘E’thing alright Pete?’ Benji yelled from the helm, his grip shifting as he took in the new landscape.

Pete barely turned his head before an eerie tinkling sound trickled through the smog. A beautiful, calm, ringing sound that could almost pass as a lullaby. Pete tensed, his feet hobbling over to the young boy and Steve stumbled to follow.

‘Go wake the crew boy,’ he ordered, Benji releasing his grip on the wheel as Pete took his place. He simply nodded, silently understanding as he scurried away and Steve’s brows were bunching as he moved to the side.

‘What is going on?’ Steve pressed, the music now growing louder as Pete’s stare remained fixed on the horizon. ‘Pete-‘

‘Music is ne’er good either,’ a glint of fear catching his face in the dim light as he tracked the moon, steering to the right slowly. 

‘Okay,’ Steve sighed, shifting closer as he finally took note of Pete’s hushed tone. ‘Talk to me. Tell me what it is.’

Pete cast one look at Steve, exhaling through his nose and tight lips before he looked out straight once more.

Steve still had a lot to learn. A hell of a lot. 

But Pete simply caved as he resigned himself to paternal instincts; if anyone were to teach Steve sea lore, it would have eventually fallen to him.

‘There’s a tale ‘bout a man, young he was when it happened, but he fell n’love with a girl.’

The wind whistled through the sails as Pete dropped his voice once more. 

‘And soon she fell with child, and they had a daught’r. Now the man left for war soon after but before he could make it back home, his kingd’m was raided by pirates, and his two girls were kidnapped and taken to sea.’

The smog creeped itself along the deck, stealing their sight as it shrouded the edges.

‘He then commandeered a ship and set off after ‘em,’ Pete inhaled sharply, ‘and that’s where he’s been since. Prowlin’ the seas and playing his daught’r’s favourite song in hopes of find’n them.’

‘As would any father I believe-‘ Steve started before he was cut off.

‘Story goes though son, that any ship he comes ‘cross gets hit. Don’t ma’er if it holds his fam’ly or no’, ev’ry boat goes down if it cross’s his path.’

‘Well how does he expect to save his family then?’ Steve asked, unperturbed by the unusual storyline. He’d learnt his lesson now to not question the myths and tales the crew held dear, and instead he watched Pete pale as a stream of clouds parted along the horizon and a thin plain sail swam across their path, far in the distance and as silent as a shark’s fin while hunting.

‘He leaves’a lil boat trail’n behind his ship, and always stays on site to save ‘em. The song’s suppos’d to lure them out to ‘im, only it lures e’ryone else too, ‘specially at night when they dream’n.’

The post disappears into the fog once more as Pete breathes out, and steers in the opposite direction, the murk swallowing up more of the deck.

‘So we stay quiet, we get e’ryone up and awake, and we try and clear through this fog.’

‘Got it,’ Steve nodded, attention stolen at the muffled footsteps of the groggy crew now filling the deck. Eddie’s head lifted immediately, walking up quietly to the helm as he spoke to Pete.

‘Think it’s him?’ He asks, throat tight as he casts a glance at Steve in recognition.

‘Gotta be lad.’

‘Well where’s Mae?’ Eddie looks around, noticing the puddle of men mulling by the steps.

‘She not wit’ you?’

‘No she- her hammock was empty when I woke.’

‘Benji,’ Pete hissed in a sharp whisper, the young boy hurrying up the steps to them. ‘You seen Mae?’

‘No sir,’ he shook his head, swallowing thickly as he caught sight of Eddie’s harsh glare. ‘Weren’ in her bed, or the walkways when I went down.’

‘Fuck,’ Eddie cursed under his breath, eyes now landing on Steve. ‘And you’ve not seen her?’ 

Steve almost squirms under the stare, momentarily confused as to why Eddie thought he would have seen her at night, as if he understood some hidden meaning as to why you might seek him out in the moonlight.

‘No… no I saw her last before she went to bed, before I came up here for my post.’

‘Shit,’ Eddie fussed, Pete slapping a palm to his shoulder as he hushed him.

‘S’alright. I’ve not heard any splashes so she’s still on board son,’ he practically cooed, Eddie nodding as he stepped to the side.

‘Should we be worried?’ Steve questioned, voice dropping as he closed in on Pete, a harsh breeze slicing through the crew as their murmurs grew. 

‘Uh Pete,’ Eddie interjected, his gaze locked on flapping material wrapped around the mast and sails up high.

‘Son?’

‘Think I found her.’

Every eye within listening distance shot up at the statement, latching onto the faint figure swaying amongst the sails, the pole wobbling beneath your feet.

‘She’s up in the sails,’ Steve breathed, a blend of relief and bother stirring in his chest at the sight of you.

‘That bleedin’ monkey,’ Pete grumbled as suddenly the crew sprang to life, scurrying along the deck with the silent efficiency of a school of fish, shifting to capture your attention.

No one dared call out, the cursed ship still stalking the hidden waters as Pete continued to try and steer course by the moonlight, but Steve soon runs for the ropes, hands gripping the ladders rungs before his grip is torn away. 

‘Not with your balance buddy,’ Eddie almost spits under his breath, no true malice to his words; only a fierce protectiveness that Steve refuses to challenge as he watches Eddie scale the ropes to reach you. 

The rope is coarse beneath Eddie’s palms, and he silently pleads to all the sea gods that you were holding onto something up there as he rushes towards you. His eyes occasionally scanned the hazy horizon, but as the wind scraped his cheeks he barrelled upward, cresting the pole your feet haphazardly stood upon, your toes curling around the end as it hovered above the deep blue midnight ocean.

Your loose under shirt beat against the elevated breeze, each gust squealing against you and the large sails beneath, and as Eddie grasped onto the longline rope that trailed above, he slowly inched closer, attempting to not wriggle the rope your fingers were wrapped loosely around.

‘Mae,’ he called out, soft enough that he could still hear the eerie music swishing along the fog, edging nearer as he teetered for a heartbeat when the pole shook with the wind. ‘Mae-‘

His voice died down once he saw your face however, the lax sleepy expression painting your features as your closed eyes twitched under the moonlight.

You were sleepwalking- no, sleep climbing. If anyone could climb these ropes at night it would be you, but the impressiveness of it being done in your sleep was nulled when Eddie saw your heel begin to raise.

‘Hey- hey Mae!’ Eddie stumbled closer, steps away from you as he watched your foot flatten once more. His outburst had raised his voice slightly, and the crew below shuffled nervously as they watched on.

‘I always knew you liked the sails but this is new for you,’ Eddie chuffed, attempting a joke as the lines on your face creased at the sound of his voice. As if you could hear him through the muffled noise swelling inside you.

An inviting, calming sound that enticed you forward, luring you to just take one more step. One more step to peace…

‘Stop!’ Eddie spat, his voice halting you once again as he tried to shuffle closer.

His words were lost to the wind, the crew simply gawking at your frigid face and fidgeting feet as your grip starts to falter on the flapping cable nearby. 

‘Grab those ropes,’ Steve orders, pointing at a post as he ran to the opposite one at the other end. His fingers began to unravel the tight knot, soaked from the sea as he ignored the way it stung the callouses on his hands. 

‘What are you doing?’ Pete asked over the helm with a precise whisper, the crew still mournfully motionless before Steve was interrupting. 

‘If we loosen these ropes, it will release the main sail,’ he grunted under his breath, the fog twirling around his ankles as he stepped along the deck.

‘We don’ want the ship t’be moving though,’ Dickie explained, ‘it could knock Mae free-‘

‘And then the sail should catch her,’ Steve held his stare, a flurry of understanding finally crossing their faces as they silently set to work with freeing the fluttering sheet.

Eddie’s eyes hadn’t left you, ignorant to the formation brewing below as he ignored the steady rippling now along the pole. 

‘Hey remember that time I climbed to your quarters,’ words tumbling from his tongue now as he watched your toes twitch, ‘a-and I fell onto your balcony and I-I broke that… that statue thing.’

The gales screeched along the wood, scratching and skittering along the wavy ropes as Eddie continued, hoping to distract you, wake you, stop you.

‘And then you threw it into the gardens to hide the pieces from your maid, but then the gardeners found it and then suddenly the palace was being checked for rotting stone or something, then all the trellis’ were removed and the vines cleared and I couldn’t reach your room for a full summer.’

Another wobble shook his knees, his legs locking to take the movement as he watched yours expertly sway with the motion.

‘That was one of the hardest summers I’d ever had to endure, until last,’ Eddie breathed, watching how your palms flexed along the rope, as if he’d finally caught your attention. ‘And I’m never letting you out of my sight again. So just… just come back down, yeah?’

The corner of your lips twitched then, and for a brief second Eddie thought he’d cracked through your sleepy haze, his hands reaching out for your crooked elbow before there was a sudden jolt.

A sharp shunt that had your feet sliding out from under you, and his heart plummeted at the sight. Eddie couldn’t determine if you’d slipped or jumped, the former seeming impossible from your history in the sails, and as he watched how gravity stole your body he dropped to the beam, clutching the rickety wood as he cried out.

‘Ma- no!’ He silenced himself, clapping his palm over his mouth as he remembered why he was up there, the horror in his chest heaving when the ocean turned milky white, the ship filled with a violent flick before suddenly merging back to the dulled deck before, the crew now surrounding your frantic figure.

‘Hey shh shh shh,’ Steve hushed in your ear, his fingers tight over lips as he pinned you still, silencing the screams you’d let out as you flew off the sloped sail and into his arms before he’d wrestled you to the ground to calm you, his chest lining your back as you stared up at the foggy faces of your crew.

This was not how you expected to wake up.

Your panicked breaths evened as a lullaby wafted around you, understanding creeping through as you caught sight of Eddie’s wild hair dancing high up in the sails. The pieces clicked, the loose sail towering in and out of your vision as the crew now straightened up in relief, thumbs up being thrown towards the mast and helm.

Heartbeats racked your chest, and as you slumped further into Steve’s hold in exhaustion, releasing the grip your fingers had held on his forearms, you felt him breathe out.

A deep, heated sigh that grumbled through your bones as his lips found your ear again.

‘There we go,’ he mumbled, the warmth of his voice dulling your senses and pacifying you far greater than any lullaby could, the throbs in your chest doubling as his fingers dropped from your parted lips.

‘Good idea lad,’ Dickie murmured, patting Steve’s shoulder as the crew dispersed, grateful gasps leaving Steve as he simply smiled at the recognition.

At the welcome to the crew.

Chapter Text

Ice-tipped waves slice the old wooden hull as it bolts across the horizon, a frigid wind hurtling the ship at top knots speed which does little to disadvantage the approaching galleon as it sails in your wake. The midday sun barely warms the sails against the winter weather, and it’s all hands on deck to help you escape the looming assault.

A galleon as grand as the one pursuing you all now was rare, especially with how barren the ocean now lay against its rippling shimmers. Nothing that large nor pristine would usually bare compass this far north, and yet here they were, stalking you amongst your waves as the crew came alive at the first sign of their sails.

Huge, crisp, white sails that burned brighter under the sun, a scourging beacon as they crept over the horizon just before noon.

‘They gain’n on us!’ Pete yelled from the helm, glancing over his shoulder to see the ship closer and clearer now. ‘Ready the cannons!’

‘Cannons?’ Steve asked, earning a half exasperated eye roll from yourself and Eddie as you hurried to the cubby holes below, Steve in tow.

‘Naval guards never take kindly to pirates Steve,’ you huff, rolling a weighty ball along the deck as Steve picks one up and follows behind with a stumble. ‘No such thing as a reasonable conversation when they come across us on the seas, so it’s shoot first before they shoot you.’

‘How can you tell they are Naval guards?’ Steve asked, dropping the ball by your own as you continue to create a pile by Eddie’s feet as he twiddles with the cannon.

‘Did you see their sails?’ Eddie pointed out, twisting the ignition rope as he prepared gunpowder in his lap. ‘No way anything that clean isn’t under a kingdom’s command, and anything this far out to sea isn’t under guard leadership.’

‘Okay so we’re going to come under fire then?’ Steve said nervously, as you nodded with muted eagerness.

‘Mhmm,’ you nodded, bringing over another cannonball. ‘Today you get to be a real pirate.’

‘Joy,’ he grimaced, ‘I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be aboard a sinking ship.’

‘None of that,’ Eddie grumbled, tongue sticking out between his lips as he cupped some powder down the huge barrel. ‘This ship’s seen a lot but we’ve never lost.’

‘TURN’N PORTSIDE… NOW!’ Pete yelled from deck, his dry voice filtering through the cracks of the wooden floorboards as the ship banked to its side. Steve staggered from the tilt, you and Eddie remaining glued to the cubby hole as you watched the horizon shift.

As the sky creeped back into view, so did the speeding ship, shining as bright as a lighthouse as it glided through the waves. It would have been a marvel if it weren’t for the threat of what could happen if they boarded you, the confidence of the crew dissuading any real concern that that was a possibility.

The cannon rolled on its joints, Eddie lining the barrel up into the cubby hole as the ship started to level out, Steve leaning forward to glance out the frame you and Eddie had now retreated from.

‘So what happens if-‘

Smoke fills the gulley following the deepest boom Steve’s ever bore witness too so close. The depth rattles his bones, and instantly the smoke reminds him of his crumbled kingdom.

‘Why would you-?!’ He starts to complain against the ringing in his ears before he watches you and Eddie cover your own, an orange light fizzing between you.

‘FIRE!’ Eddie yells, though it’s muffled as a few nearby cannons sound off too.

The smoke clears, the booms echo, and the ringing lessens enough for Steve to glare at you both.

‘You-‘

‘You’re on the lower deck surrounded by cannons whilst the ship is under attack,’ you spit quickly, ‘what did you expect?’

‘A heads up?’ He cries out, the familiar sizzling of rope starting again down the row.

‘Use your eyes mate,’ Eddie argues as he shuffles another handful of gunpowder while you roll him a cannon ball, the words not meaning insult as Steve recollects himself. 

‘Alright.’

Another round of cannon fire leaves your ship and sprinkles across the waves, only one finding purchase as you watch the bust of a wooden mermaid at the front of the galleon shatter away.

‘Okay another round-‘ Eddie starts, the rest of the crew copying before a splintering crack careens through the hull, bright sunlight streams through two opposing, gaping holes as you shield your eyes.

‘They hit us,’ Steve states the obvious, equal shock on your faces as you gape back out to sea through what once was part of the hull.

When did they get so close?

‘They got front cannons!’ Benji announces, a chorus of groans as another round of cannon fire is peppered off.

Barely a dent is made to their speed by the time they swim parallel to you, a boardwalk thrown over the walkways as they thunder with boots above you before you can prepare the cannons again.

‘Did they just-‘

‘Shut up Steve,’ you whisper, silence enveloping the deck before a dreary voice calls out.

‘This ship is now under the command of Captain Tully, Lieutenant of the Kingdom…‘

‘We’ve been boarded,’ Eddie mutters, capturing your eyes as they widen.

‘We’ve been boarded.’

‘… and with direct orders of the Sovereign, you are under arrest.’

~ ~ ~

‘Name?’ A Naval officer asked, voice bored as the question rang out for the umpteenth time.

‘Eddie.’

The polished wood of the royal deck creaked beneath your knees, your whole crew now kneeling before the guards that had escorted everyone over the plank as smooth waxed rope rubbed the wrists of your front bound arms. The two ships sat flush against each other as they bobbed in the ocean, and even in comparison to the grandeur of this vessel, your beloved boat never failed in beauty with its coziness that could never be replicated.

‘Family name?’

‘Munson.’

The quill scribbled across the parchment in his arm, his eyes flitting over to where you kneeled beside him.

‘Hmm, and yours?’ He asked, catching sight of your long locks, amending his question with ease. ‘Family name?’

It was not amiss that the pompous man immediately asked for your family name, as if you were property with no individual identity of a first name. You bit your tongue though, gaging the severity of this situation before tilting your chin up.

‘Don’t have one,’ you replied monotonously.

‘You don’t have a family name?’ His brows bunched as if the idea illogical.

‘Don’t have a family.’

He huffed, writing something illegible on the script before a voice cleared their throat from behind.

‘That’s not quite true, now is it?’ The tone sharpening something in your mind as you shifted on your knees. The sea of guards parted, a tall, white haired man stepping through as you squinted under the harsh glare of the sun.

Shadows skittered from their face as they removed a large feathered hat, angling their familiar stare down to the floor as they took you in from mere steps away.

‘Her name is Princess Margaret of the Seven Kingdoms, heir to my throne, and captive to these pirates.’

Air left your lungs as your tongue stuttered in your throat. Your entire crew were watching you now, unease shifting inside them all at your silence, but nothing could pierce you as harsh as the figures’ eyes that remained locked on you.

‘Father?’ Your voice but a whisper as he sneered at you.

‘I’ve been so worried about you darling,’ his voice insincere as the grin widened in victory. ‘I’ve gone to quite the trouble of finding you it seems.’

‘Took you long enough to find the ability to care,’ you grimaced, head swinging to the side at the sharp crack of his backhand slapping your cheek. Your skin stung, but his proximity stung more as he knelt down on one knee before you, invading your vision in a way that made your skin crawl.

‘There were rumours…’ he murmured to himself, his fingers caressing your chin now, a contrast to the harshness he’d just dealt. You squirmed in his hold, entirely uncomfortable and wholly disturbed by the details at play as you fought the urge to unsheathe your dagger, and plunge it into his rotten, lying throat. ‘That my little girl had been found in some quaint little bay, few moons over.’

You watched as his eyes narrowed, taking in how your face has sharpened, how your hair has grown in bulk.

‘People talk when you pay quite handsomely too. Such as offering up a description of the only ship able to flee the bay after its collapse.’

His hand dropped from your smudged skin, his legs straightening as he took the habitual position of looking down at you.

‘Well men, good job,’ he announced to his crew with a puffed out chest as they stiffened to attention. ‘Disembark, and prepare to sail to Dead Man’s Cove.’

‘Yes sir.’

‘Take them to the cells… except her,’ his gaze landed on you as a vice like grip of determination coiled around your heart. ‘Take her to my cabin.’

‘If you’re going to hang them, you’ll have to hang me too,’ you gritted out, your tied fists straining against the smooth ropes wrapped round them.

‘Quiet you insolent girl,’ he ordered with a huff of breath as you ignored him.

‘If they die… I die.’

‘Mae what are you doing?’ Steve murmured, low enough for the Naval guards to miss but you weren’t listening, focus entirely stolen by the walking trauma and pinnacle of your childhood; the one person who seemed to truly make you rush with rage.

‘I’m not going to kill you darling,’ he scoffed, almost chuckling at the notion.

‘Removing me from my crew might as well mean death,’ you declared.

‘Oh you always were so dramatic,’ he sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes as if he were thrown back a decade with his impertinent heir.

‘If they die, I die,’ you repeated, gleeful at the sight of your fathers face darkening.

‘They are pirates, who-‘

‘I’m a pirate!’ You cried.

‘You are of royal blood,’ his voice thick with annoyance now. ‘You are not a pirate.’

‘Yeah well blood means fuck all on our ship,’ you seethed.

‘They stole you from me,’ your father started to crack, anger bursting forth as his cheeks burned apple red. ‘These pirates kidnapped my child,’ the King continued, performing as if this were a show to his men as they rallied the ship around him, his finger pointing at you in exaggeration, ‘stole you away in the middle of the night-‘

You laughed.

‘Quiet Margaret,’ he ordered.

‘These pirates didn’t steal me,’ you taunted in a tone you knew would strike a nerve. ‘I left, father. Voluntarily, and without force.’

‘No,’ he shook his head, delusional to what he was hearing and for a brief moment you witnessed a snapshot of what could have been considered paternal concern. ‘No they’ve conditioned you to believe it was on your own accord.’

‘How on earth would sea baring pirates kidnap me from your landlocked, iron fortress?’ You stated plainly, a mumble circulating the deck that your father righteously ignored as his lips thinned tight against his teeth.

‘I am not losing you again,’ he hissed as if you were just some trinket he’d misplaced, and your absence was more an inconvenience than heartfelt loss.

‘You lost me a long time ago father, before I left for the sea,’ your voice taking on a slow, calming tone now, hopeful to deter the bubbling fury you were so adept at avoiding as a child. ‘No one stole me. I left. And so I say again. If they die, I die.’

He holds your gaze for a breath longer before all emotion drains from his face, replaced only by the distant, cold expression you’d held etched into any memories of your father, your family, your home.

‘Ready the cannons,’ he spits bluntly, voice barely needing to rise as it carried across the upper deck, everyone rallying as your crew straightened on their knees.

What?

‘Wha’?’ You heard Pete utter, observing only as your father turned to his crew, orchestrating the destruction of what had been your home all these years. 

Where you had grown up. Where you had fallen in love. Where you had found peace.

‘Disembark, and fire at will,’ the final order given, a cacophony of movement and noise milling the space. The clattering of walk boards collapsing into the sea with a careless clutter before the sizzling of gunpowder hummed beneath you.

Mere heartbeats sat between the order and the charred smoke of your home, wood splintering high into the air as tens of cannons split it into numerous pieces. The mast groaned as it slid to its side, sails splashing into the ocean as the deck crumpled into boards, cannon fire endless until there was nothing left to fire upon, the ship slipping beneath the waves.

The ship was gone.

Your home was gone.

Your happiness. Your safety. Your comfort.

Stolen once more by the man you’d sworn never to lay eyes upon again.

‘The fuck did you just-‘ you shouted, chest blubbering under the crushing weight of another part of you your father had destroyed.

‘I said take them to the cells and her to my cabin,’ he sighed exasperated, as if a headache was starting to form from the entire interaction.

‘Is jus’a ship pet!’ Pete called out over the din of orders, the guards roughly dragging your family below deck as you tried to catch their eyes. ‘We all ‘live, and tha’s all that ma’ers.’

‘This way missy,’ an officer cupped your elbows as he escorted you higher up the decks, away from your retreating crew. ‘Cabin’s this way…’

~ ~ ~

The cabin sat sunken in shadows, drapes over port windows as if the sight of saltwater made the occupier queasy. Tobacco clung to the stale air, and your family crest lay donned atop a mahogany desk in the corner. Your wrists breathed what little air they could at the removal of your ropes, and as you stood in the centre of the small, dark room, the door creaked open not long after.

‘Darling,’ he called out with mock candour, the pet name falling flat as he shrugged off his royal red jacket, hanging it on a hidden coat stand in a shadowy corner. ‘Do have a seat,’ he gestured to the two wooden chairs astride an oval, glossy table. ‘We have much to catch up on.’

His voice still held the shrill poshness you’d always detested, the flouncy pronunciation with a raised nose line to highlight how above everyone he was, and when he looked at you with the well known glare you’d avoid, you couldn’t help but feel like the little girl who would hide from her father all those years ago.

You simply sat, silent and shy as he took the adjacent spot, grinning at you for a moment as his fingertips tapped together in an arch.

‘Are you well?’ He asked, a sternness to his tongue as if he were performing a medical exam.

‘Enough,’ you said plainly, not offering the question in kind which your father dully noted.

‘Good,’ the word barely moving his lips. ‘Well enough chatter, we might as well talk business.’

His hands clapped together before he leant forward to the table, decanting some ruby wine into one of the two goblet glasses, before he leant back with a leisurely sip.

‘After your… unexpected departure we fell into some troubles,’ he began, as if he were quoting a speech. ‘You see, we had a contract signed with the East Coast, King Saunders you recall? Well his son was set to marry you, except when we no longer had a daughter to offer he rescinded the contract and wed the South Coast instead.’

Another slurp before he began to gesture with the swirling goblet.

‘Now the South Coast always held qualms about our Province and so trades were halted quite promptly. Grain, herbs, hay- and after auctioning the stables we barely held the land, and without the available medicine well…’ he breathed deeply, continuing in a monotonous colour, ‘it was no surprise that your mother passed from cholera not soon after.’

The detachment from his words held a similarity to someone reciting a passage, not someone informing a family member someone had died, but he continued, as if the loss of his wife was just a bothersome business.

‘So I suppose, that by your leaving, you killed your mother,’ he chuckled dryly. ‘Yes yes, bit of a stretch I know, but… you can make it up to me now.’

You remained still, barely breathing as you now dared not utter a word. The news that your mother had died was… heartbreaking, yes, and yet the years of separation allowed the sting to dull to a beating throb.

‘The North have offered us a deal. Should you marry their King, they will offer back my lands, and trades to our Kingdom shall resume,’ he smiled triumphantly, as if everything were falling back in line at his behest and their expense.

All you could recall of the North from your childhood lessons however was that he never had any sons, a nuisance he would often complain to your father about. So this wasn’t just a Prince your father was talking about, one who had taken over a throne following a fallen sovereign, no he meant-

‘You’re of…’ he gestured to your corset, placing the goblet down after a final greedy gulp, ‘age now, of course, so his maturity shan’t be of gossip. Plus he’s a close family friend, so I trust he’ll be able to keep you in line, no matter how difficult you can be.’

Your father was going to barter you away to a man in his elder years? 

‘So with that settled, once we get over this nasty business of you pretending you’re part of these dirty pirates, we’ll pass through Dead Man’s Cove, and then return to our Kingdom.’

There was no ‘our’ to include you in any of the horrors he’d just mentioned, the sourness on your face confirming all that he knew you’d argue with.

‘No.’

‘No?’ Your father repeated, an eyebrow arching in amusement as this was the first time he’d heard the word so firmly from your lips. You’d argue with your mother as a little girl; no not that dress, no more lessons, no I don’t want to go to bed.

But never had you disobeyed your father, a fear so tightly wound around your little heart that it would choke you whenever you dared even think about it. You were older now, wiser, with blood coursing through you thick with saltwater and independence, and the word flowed from you with ease, accompanying your earlier statements in an attempt to unsettle your father once more.

‘You don’t own me,’ you spoke slowly, an unrestrained conviction that flared in your eyes. One your father noticed, and had the gall to smirk at.

‘Don’t be absurd Margaret-‘

‘It’s Mae now, father. And the only thing absurd about this entire situation is how you believe I am willing to accept any of it.’ Your nose scrunched in disgust as he levelled you with a stare that had you swallow.

‘I don’t need you to accept anything,’ he stated with a menacing smile, fingering the stem of the goblet as he toyed with the idea of pouring himself another glass. As if he deserved such a treat. ‘I just need you to understand that you have no power here. Women very rarely do in this world and my girl, that’s something you would have learned had you stayed in place but see, now you have all these notions of freedom and autonomy and that. Just. Won’t. Do.’

He refilled his glass, clinking the decanter back into its hold as you held your tongue, knowing it would be the only way to leave the room unscathed. At least physically.

‘So those scoundrels that stole you-‘

Accepted.

‘- will be eliminated at the cove-‘

Murdered.

‘-and then we will return home.’

Prison.

‘And my dear, that Munson boy?’ Your gaze sharpened on him at the name, ‘I always knew he were trouble, but piracy is a crime. It will be justice to have him swing first.’

His lips curled at the sight of yours thinning, his glass being swilled away before standing to his feet, looking down his long crow nose at you once more.

‘It’s good to have you back Margaret,’ his voice curt as he struggled to lace any real delight to his words, the door opening before he left the room and locked it behind, leaving you in a pit of helplessness you’d blocked away with your childhood.

~ ~ ~

The tip of your dagger sat snug against the grooves of the screws, slotting in tight as they turned easily. Your corset had managed to hide the thin blade tight against your ribs, but despite its point pressing into your skin, the only pain you truly felt was the separation from your crew.

Your father had found you. And he was going to kill the only family you’d ever known.

Pete. Eddie. Steve.

The screw fell from its hole as you caught it, placing it atop the ruffled curtain at your side to muffle the metal clink as it dropped. You set to work with the next screw.

If anything your time in your parent’s palace had taught you, was that a lock was never practical if you had something sharp. It used to be delicate hair pins, but now your prized dagger spun like a dream as the final screw released from its hold, the handle plate now coming away from the expensive wood.

It had been hours now since you last saw your crew, and judging by what you’d learnt from Pete’s charts, the cove would be coming up soon, especially at the speed this vessel sailed at as the ocean skimmed by the cloaked window.

The door creaked open, the intricate lock falling away as you placed it onto the pile of screws nearby, before you sheathed your dagger amongst your laces once more, and tiptoed out into the manicured hallway.

You had been escorted to the cabin with such casualness that it was easy to memorise the minimal turns and steps it would take to reach the upper deck. With the hallways surprisingly calm and the slowing of the waves outside, you could only guess that you were coming up to the cove now, if not already, and it was all but confirmed as you darted through a final door and took in the site of your crew mates on deck with the jagged stoned archways hovering as a backdrop, dropping to your knees in an instant.

Neatly knotted nooses swung in the breeze from the charcoal rocks, and your heart lurched into your throat as you saw how Eddie was yanked to his feet first, and dragged towards the prepared dinghy’s being lowered at the side, ready for transport to the cove.

You crawled along the deck with a shuffle, peering through the sloped bannisters that lined the upper deck, staying out of view as now Benji and Dickie were hauled upright too.

They were going to hang the kid first?

‘Sends a message,’ your fathers voice answered in your head, and you swallowed down the bile of anxiety threatening to rise and overspill.

Steve’s eyes had been darting around the deck since they were summoned, and a muted glee crossed his face at the sign of your eyes catching his amongst the higher ground. You narrowed your gaze on him, silently commanding him to cut it out, but one of the Naval guards on watch caught note, and his scouring gaze had you dropping down to your belly, missing his surveying eye.

You breathed out, mentally debating how best to take on an entire Naval guard on your own, glancing around the space once clear. You noted the baskets of cutlasses dotted at the edges, the longline ropes anchoring the upper cannons in place, the additional dinghy’s hovering over the waters edge-

But your plan was pushed forward at the sight of Eddie being thrown into the small boat, Pete’s body being plucked from the crowd next to join.

‘Board them,’ your father’s voice rang out, bored, as if this task was beneath him and merely delaying something far more exciting.

You were running at the ropes before you could ready yourself, your boots skirting along the gulley wall with envious balance as your dagger sliced along the ropes holding up the dinghy’s as you ran past them, the guard and Eddie being flown back on deck at the swinging drop.

The guards rallied around your crew, encircling them as you hovered on the wall, hanging onto an overcast rope as your dagger held pointed and poised at the unfortunate guard who stood at your knees. The hilt of his sword was barely able to shunt out of its hold before the tip of your blade had dipped into the apple of his neck, and he froze in surprise.

‘If they die, I die.’

‘I sure hope tha’s not all ‘er plan,’ Pete grumbled from where he’d been thrown back to the floor, his knees creaking as Steve shuffled to support him up. 

With every set of eyes on you, it was easy for your crew to finally see you. Finally watch how your eyes twinkled with a hidden plan. Enough for them to understand, and wait for the signal. 

Unperturbed, your father simply sighed, groaning in annoyance as he leisurely stepped closer. 

‘Margaret stop that, I’m not letting you go anywhere.’

‘You don’t own me,’ you stressed, the tip of your dagger pressing deeper as a bead of blood started to trickle down the guards neck. He swallowed, blade shifting with his bobbing neck, and your father waved a palm over your kneeling crew.

‘And yet, I do girl.’

‘Let them go,’ you released the rope so your arm could wrap around the guards’ neck instead, the razor edge blade now nudging into a pulsing vein as he stiffened. 

‘You’re not going to kill him,’ your father taunted, a darkness settling over you as your voice dripped with hostility. 

‘You don’t know me well enough to make that assumption.’

A look crossed his face, a mixture of surprise and admiration as he stared at you, your knees bending with the rocking waves as the stuttering chest of the guard in your grip wavered against you. 

‘My my… how you’ve grown with these savages,’ he sneered as your mouth dropped to the guards ear in your hold. 

‘If you value your life, you’ll kick that bucket over to my crew.’ He paused for a beat of hesitation, his eyes you can only assume latching onto his Captains before you tightened your grip. ‘Do it.’ 

His leg jutted out, knocking the bucket of blades across the shiny deck as they skidded over to your crew who watched them spread silently, remaining still as their bound wrists twitched in front of them. 

‘Margaret-‘

‘Don’t talk to me like you know me,’ you warned, as your father inched closer. ‘Like I’m still your daughter.’

His heels clicked on the deck as the wood lay littered with shiny blades, a river of metal between your crew, and yourself. 

‘I will talk to you as I see fit,’ his fading air of authority slicing the air. ‘I am your father.’

‘You were never a father,’ you hissed, ‘and if you take one more step I’ll prove to you just how little you truly mean to me.’

His footsteps paused, hovering in a space as he glanced across his ship, a silent command being passed to his guards before he turned back to you. 

‘I don’t believe you,’ his voice thick with malice.

‘You never did,’ you grumbled before you shoved the guard free from your hold, his ungraceful body clattering down to the deck as you pocketed the sword that slipped from his hip holster. You swung then at the ropes overhead and at your feet, your sword filled fists slicing the air and denting the rail with your blades, before looking up at the sound of whizzing ropes gushing through unused cleats.

The lines snapped, spinning and whipping violently across the sail and railings as you raced along the gulley, jumping at the now loosening cannon as you dislodged it with a firm nudge. 

Distracted by a flapping sail, a harsh gale and a dramatic change of direction, your father barely saw the cannon as it rolled towards him with a lurch, shoving him into the mast with a sickening crunch. 

‘Board them,’ he croaked through a wheeze, desperately trying to hold some semblance of control. His guards had barely awakened from their daze held by the wild sails and loose lines before your crew had already scurried along the floor, swords in bound hands and tips at their captives’ throats before any of their own could be drawn. 

It was truly incredible how easy it was to distract a ship full of men with nothing but fraying ropes and a white flag. 

‘You have two options,’ you stated, stalking towards your father as he remained pinned against the mast. The ship dipped into a deep, unending tilt, and without a glance you knew that Benji had crawled through enough legs to reach the helm and lodge the wheel in one direction. The continuous turn made the man before you groan from the weight of the pressing cannon, and something fluttered in your chest at the sight. ‘Leave, or die.’

‘You couldn’t even kill my guard,’ he chuckled through a gargle, ‘you won’t kill your own flesh and-‘

Your dagger sliced his cheek, the nick creating a deep gash that had him gasping through dribbling blood. 

‘Don’t tempt me.’

Fear finally flickered in his eyes, the daughter he’d been chasing lost to a wildness that encompassed her, crowning over him as he cowered under the pain of crushed hips and defeat. 

‘Leave…’ you leant back as the naval sword in your other grip found purchase along his collarbone, pricking through his stiff starch jacket to elicit a huff, ‘or die.’

‘Well,’ he coughed around a wheeze, ‘we’ll leave.’

There was no victory cry from your crew though, as your stern glare and sharp sword remained pinned to your childhood. 

‘Just drop us at the closest port and- and we’ll leave you alone.’

‘You’ll leave now,’ you muttered, straightening a beat as you scanned the deck, catching sight of two shaking guards by Dickie and another deckhand. 

‘Ready the dinghy’s,’ you ordered them, their brows furrowing as if they were awaiting orders from their own rank, not a pirate - let alone a girl. 

‘Wha-‘

‘I said-‘ your dagger flew through the air and lodged itself into the post behind one of the guards, narrowly missing his ear as it skimmed past with a whistle, ‘ready your dinghy’s. NOW!’

Their feet moved with the common sense of a eejit, and you glanced at Dickie next, your chin tilting with a power you weren’t entirely disliking. ‘Board them.’

‘You foolish ngghhh-‘ your father whined, your weight leaning more into the now ripping uniform at his chest as he watched his naval crew hurry to the edge with a frightened, orderly fashion. Their compliance was likely only held due to your crew matching their numbers but surpassing their weapons, yet all you cared about was making your point. That nobody owned you. 

‘Benji, straight call,’ you yelled, his hand instantly releasing the helm as it spun back into place, the deck receding to its level form as the cannon crushing your father retreated slightly, rolling back a forgiving inch as he slumped further into the deck with a cry. 

‘The only foolish one here is you,’ you paused, allowing your glare to rake over your fathers panting figure, ‘if you think that you hold any power over me, again.’

‘Filthy pirate,’ he spat, the pain overtaking his composure now as he attempted to bend his legs. 

‘At last,’ a cunning smile creeped to the corner of your lips as you stepped back, releasing the stinging grip your sword had held to his chest, ‘we finally agree on something.’

The stumbling of naval boots as they slipped into their own rowboats anchored you back to the situation, the bubbling contempt you held for your father ebbing away as your gaze swept across your crew who eagerly awaited your next orders.

Silently Eddie and Pete registered your call, walking towards you as you gestured at the heap of a man at your feet.

‘Throw him in with them,’ you declared, a wash of questions scattering through their eyes. The man groaned in an effort to sit upright, and your stare hardened a second at their hesitation.

‘Mae-‘ Pete’s voice soft, never seeing this ruthless side to you.

‘What’s the plan?’ Eddie asked.

‘You throw him in, and then they leave,’ you repeated, your tongue growing thick in your throat with power.

Wordlessly they hoisted your father by his armpits, half-dragging half-stumbling him over to where his guards had pooled into the few boats tethered over the water edge. As soon as everyone had vacated, your crew and yourself lined the edges, orders of lowering them leaving your lips with little care as they shrunk under the shadow of the ship.

‘Push off,’ you explained, taking on a bored tone that almost mirrored your father as the guards stared up at you with beady eyes. You were about to shout again before Eddies soft fingers brushed along your knuckles, calming you for a beat as he took momentary charge.

‘She said PUSH OFF!’

Oars rattled into shaky holds, the paddles digging into the clean wood of the hull as the row boats shoved themselves away, tangible distance finally being created between you, and the husk of your father.

They hovered there for a thoughtful second, wobbling with the lapping waves of the coves jagged rocks. Your father was mumbling now, his cherry cheeks burning under the unshaded sun as you caught but a few rambling words.

‘…sadistic bitc-‘ his voice cut as a particular salty wave sloshed over the edge. ‘-nd those barbaric pirates.’

‘It’s not always pirates who are bloodthirsty father,’ you called out, the sea breeze carrying your voice as the bobbing boats gawked at you. ‘Sometimes it’s just men.’

You finally removed the gripping stare you’d held on them as you turned to your side.

‘Eddie, an axe.’ All eyes turned to you, confusion rife as a heavy handle slid into your open palm. ‘Thank you.’

You lobbed it through the air, listening to the sound of splintering wood as panicked cries rushed around it.

‘Margaret,’ your father yelled, horror etched into his face as water flooded his ankles. Additional axes and maces flew through the air, lodging themselves into the crumbling wood of the other boats. A silent, unified show that your crew stood with you. 

‘There’s some rocks over there. Perhaps you could wait on those until someone rescues you,’ you shout.

‘Margaret!’

‘And it’s Mae… father.’

A splash sounded, the first of many as men started to jump into the water, paddling desperately to the crooked rocks along the cove they were to row towards previously. The garbled mess of moans from your father as he paddled the sinking boat desperately closer to the rocks did little to stir pity in your stomach, something else burning bright in its place instead.

Like cockroaches, your father and his Naval team all clung to the sharp rocks protruding out from the cove of old nooses and decaying skeletons, shrinking slowly as the galleon began to steer away, Benji skilfully mastering the helm under his own silent orders of understanding.

A new sense of freedom flooded you as the cove now blurred against the horizon, the row boats sunken deep beneath the waves as specks of royal red and blue dotted the distance.

A freedom of truly letting go of your childhood, on your own terms; Unowned and unfettered.

‘It’s a pirates life for me,’ you swore under your breath, swivelling your attention back to your new ship, and your new future.

Chapter Text

Even under the mild winter sun, the tender looks of your crew as you finally turn to face them warm you with a heat that rivals blood. Everyone has pride on their face, pink in their cheeks and piety in their hearts as you near their growing half circle.

A complete contrast to your expectation - considering it was your own bloodline that had captured and held them all for an entire day.

Before an apology could slip past your lips Pete closed the distance, squashing you in his arms with a crushing hug.

‘My Mae,’ he whispered affectionately in your ear before peeling back, holding your shoulders as if he were seeing you in a new light. ‘I ne’er been more proud of ya pet.’

His eyes almost watered before he sniffed, the rest of the crew slowly stepping forward and offering you pats and hugs of equal fondness.

‘Are you alright?’ Eddie asks, his palms cupping your cheeks as he lifts your gaze to meet his. A lifetime of questions flickered over his eyes, but all you could do was nod, honesty trickling through in a wavering smile.

‘Surprisingly…yes,’ you breathed out, Pete making his way to the front of the crowd once more as he surveyed your new home.

‘She’s not a bad ship she ain’t,’ he marvelled, tipping his head in admiration as the crisp white sails rippled under the now dimming sun.

‘This might be the most expensive thing we’ve stolen yet!’ Dickie exclaimed, a murmur of agreement circling the deck. 

While your old brig had housed two masts of sails and the basic double layers of decking, this galleon had four large draped posts dotted along a clean expansive deck, with multiple levels hidden beneath with rooms to spare, including a fully stocked inventory. A raised quarter deck at the stern of the boat held a brightly lit navigation room tucked behind the helm, and official quarters lay concealed underneath.

Irregardless of what it cost to take it, your new ship was a majestic upgrade.

As a few of the deckhands started to scatter outwards to explore the new land, the peaches of sunset started to cast across everyone’s faces, a yawn escaping you before you could swallow it.

The day had physically, and mentally drained you.

‘I’m going to check out the hammocks these guys had,’ you grinned, turning on your heel to head below deck before Pete was calling out behind you.

‘You should have the cab’n,’ his voice solid and sure as he tipped his head back towards the helm, as suddenly the deck was staring at you once again. 

‘No- no that’s… that’s the captains quarters,’ you declined quickly, shifting your weight as you cast your gaze across everyone’s faces. ‘I’m not the captain.’

This crew worked as one, with no need truly for a captain. From the outer eye, it was clear who held the most control, the most weight behind their words, but it was an unspoken thing, a bond that had solidified over time. The last thing these men needed was you pretending to flaunt royal blood in an effort to gain authority. No, if your crew were to be sleeping in hammocks, you too would be sleeping in a hammock.

‘That can be easily fixed too pet,’ Pete murmured, a kind smile taking over his face as he hobbled over to you, his fist reaching into his pocket as he held your bewildered stare. ‘No one’s coulda handled your father like you did love. You saved the crew. You lead us.’

His curled fingers extended out towards you, palm facing up as a shiny medallion glinted in the golden light. ‘You’re the cap’n now.’

‘What’s that?’ You breathed, momentarily struggling for a heartbeat as you watched Pete lower onto a creaky knee, and place the trinket at your feet.

‘Tribute … to my cap’n.’

Words died on your tongue, the air in your lungs suddenly moving treacle slow as one by one the dappled crew stepped forward, dropping to a knee as they placed whatever trinket or knick-knack they still held on their person, ‘my captain’ falling from their lips before they retreated back in line with doting smiles.

‘My captain,’ Eddie’s voice cut through, your dagger that he had dislodged from the post it was embedded in being slotted into your belts holster in an overly intimate gesture, his arms curling around you before he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

‘I don’t know what to say,’ you managed to get out as each and every one of your crew - your crew - glanced at you expectantly. 

‘How about giving us the night off, and start’n afresh tomo’w!’ Pete joked, the crew joining in with laughter as you simply nodded.

‘Alright, um… rest up! It’s a new day tomorrow,’ you agreed, the deck finally dispersing as the weight of the day and your new title suddenly felt lightened without the constant stares and appraisal.

Even Eddie took it upon himself to scout out the lower decks, and as you made your way to the upper levels, you finally noticed Steve. Steve who had been leaning against a post in the background with an unreadable look on his face. Steve who hadn’t paid tribute. Steve who had just watched you leave your own family to die on rocks when all he could think about was trying to find his own.

Steve who follows you silently into the cabin as you click the door open, and allow him to enter.

The room is exceptionally clean, with large uncovered windows and a balcony that stretches over the rear of the ship. A tidy desk sits in the corner with a blue, velvet arm chair, and a large master bed frame draped in luxurious silk sheets and neat cotton sits flush against a panelled wall.

‘Look I know you probably don’t agree with everything that has happened in the last day or so,’ you start, closing the door behind him as you try to clear the air straight away.

‘No I … I do,’ he responds. ‘I get it now.’

You turn on your heel, watching him carefully. ‘You do?’

He nods enthusiastically. ‘No I…I truly see it now.’ 

He’s seen the cold truth of why you escaped, witnessed the stark differences in your upbringings. 

‘I see how your family are different from mine, your kingdom… what your future would have been I-‘ his voice catches for a second, inhaling sharply as he gathers himself. ‘I see you.’

He licks his lips deep in thought before he continues, holding your gaze as he musters the power to step closer. ‘I see a girl who escaped a barren future. I see a woman who disguised herself in court to protect herself. I see a captain who would do anything for her crew, her family.’

‘You see me?’ You smirk now.

‘I see it all,’ Steve murmurs, smugly almost, his lips quirking up at the corner as if he knows something you don’t quite yet. He’s in front of you now, a moment apart as his eyes drink in the sight of you. ‘I see you…my captain.’

The title stirs something unfamiliar within, and you shift uncomfortably on the spot.

‘That sounds weird,’ you squirm.

‘Why? That’s what your crew is calling you now.’

‘It just feels weird hearing you say it,’ you respond instantly, honesty rushing from you like an unresolved leak.

‘What should I call you instead…Princess?’ He experiments, voice dropping as his hands smooth along the silk of your corset, anchoring themselves to you with a firm touch. ‘Margaret?’ His thumb absentmindedly grating along your lower ribs with gentle strokes. ‘…mine?’

His face softens, darkens, fills with an emotive longing you didn’t realise you had been craving from the prince, and your breath hitches at the internal admission. The idea of being someone’s property would have irked you had you been asked a year ago. But now? You fucking swoon.

And he notices, as if he’s cracked open your hardened shell, releasing this hidden, independent dragon that always refuses help. 

‘I still need to pay tribute,’ Steve finally speaks, gloating in the silence of your numb tongue as he starts to tilt down. ‘To my captain.’

‘Pardon?’ Your eyebrows raise, scrunching together in the middle in a way Steve can only find adorable.

‘Mae, don’t make me beg,’ he chuckles half heartedly, fingers flexing along your hips as if he were restraining himself as his voice thickens.

‘No I think I’d rather like to see that,’ you joke, before his plump pink lips fill your view as he fucking hovers an inch away from you.

You weren’t sure if he was testing or teasing you, but it takes more willpower than you’d anticipated to not lean forward and close the gap.

Tentatively he brushes his lips to yours, a soft, drawn out longing of a kiss that has you following his lips as he peels back a moment later. You pray to all the gods that that wasn’t his tribute. That there was something more to be promised than a quick, chaste kiss. 

Steve’s eyes search yours as his fingertips tighten along your waist, barely taking a second to recognise the flecks of need in your gaze before he fucking delivers, crashing into you for a second time.

You melt into each other, bleeding into a hot mess of clashing lips and teeth, an urgent need festering beneath the surface as you both cave, as if months of heat and hidden pining that had been left simmering away in your bodies suddenly rush to the surface in that instant.

This moment where his lips touch yours and he kisses you like he’s starved, thirsty, desperate.

This moment where his hands roam like he’s hunting, dipping and diving as his palms circle around to heat your lower back, his fingertips tugging at your corset ribbons and you feel the tension loosen around your chest as it drops and crumples to the floor.

This moment where only your thin, wrinkled shirt lies between Steve’s wondering hands and your bare breast as he skirts up and up, cupping you into his large palm before his thumb and forefinger playfully pinch your nipple through the material.

It elicits a whine from you, one he swallows with his greedy mouth as his free hand rounds to your bum, caressing you lower and lower before he’s practically between your legs as you roll into him.

Steve manages to manoeuvre towards the bed, the feathered mattress engulfing your spine as he spreads his weight atop you once more. His mouth continues to pepper your mouth, neck, and only as his knees rest between your thighs, your hips opening and keening at the sensation, do his lips travel down your unbuttoning shirt and opening navel.

He circles a nipple between his lips, pinning your molten hips with his own as you feel his hard length against your heat, a bolt of pleasure shivering up and down your spine like lightning. He continues down your body, leisurely and without rush before his fingers dip under your waistband of your stays, peeling them down your legs before you watch him sink to his knees at the bottom of the bed.

‘What are you doing?’ You ask breathlessly, his smirk faltering for a moment, as if he had heavily misread the situation.

‘Can I?’ He asks, wide eyed and glossy lipped.

‘Can you what?’ You’re practically panting with need.

The genuine innocence on your face tells him all that he needs to know, his legs straightening for a second as he nears your face once more, planting a soft searing kiss to your lips.

‘Can I kiss you?’ His voice rough with want.

‘You just did,’ you mumble, leaning for his lips again before he teasingly leant back, his smirk growing by the second.

‘Not here,’ he whispers, granting you one final kiss before he starts to slink down your body, peppering the skin on your neck and collarbones as he worked his way down once more.

Your tongue was stuck in your throat, chest heaving and nipples hardening as he travels lower to your waist, fingers playing with the waistband of your knickers next.

You were no virgin when it came to the activities of night, but the rushed experiences you’d had from strangers at taverns never allowed the time, or the attention that Steve was willingly offering you right now. His confidence and assuredness oozed from him, as if this was a common occurrence when he entertained a lady, and your mind whirled from the implication of what kind of lover Steve could be. 

You’d anticipated that the Prince would have been stuck in his ways so to say, stubborn on his pleasure and insisting of rushing to the end, but as he leisurely peeled your knickers down your legs, you knew this wouldn’t be the case.

The attention he was paying you, the way his heavy lidded eyes traced every curve of your body, it was like he was savouring the moment, and you wondered for a moment how many skirts he’d managed to hoist up while he was in the palace.

His large hands press into the back of your thighs, gripping you in place before he nuzzles forward, placing a teasing kiss to your folds. 

Your hips buck, the new sensation hammering your heart further as blood rushes in your ears, the roar of your panting drowning out the soft chuckle Steve lets slip before kissing you again… and again… and again.

Your fists grip the soft sheets beneath you, your back arching as your teeth dig into your lower lip to hold back your moans. When his tongue flattens against you, expertly nudging against the swell of your heat a whimper catches in your throat, urging him to continue as he starts to lap at you.

Steve had turned you into a quivering puddle, and as you feel a slender finger trace your entrance you cant stop the moan that rips itself from you, his long digit soon effortlessly slipping inside you with little resistance. Your slick coats his knuckles now, his lips ravaging you as you manage to reach for his hair, sliding your fingers through the mess of strands to hold on to something, anything, that was tangible to this pleasure.

Your mind swells with Steve - his strong palms holding you in place, his soft hair tickling your inner thighs, his eager mouth that’s managed to rip every fraying strand of desire within your body to the surface, ready to be plucked and played with.

The knot in your stomach starts to tighten, your moans coming out pitchy as for an awful moment you feel that he would stop - or worse yet, that this was just a dream and you would wake in a moment…

You’re blinded by white hot stars that burst into your vision, your spine shattering against the bed as your walls flutter against Steve’s finger and endless mouth.

His mouth that just won’t stop, despite your weak protests and breathy gasps, he somehow manages to wrench out a second from you with little work, barrelling you over the edge as you try to catch your breath on the other side.

‘Fuck,’ you finally get out, the mattress shifting as you feel Steve shuffle up the bed. You’re pushing up on your elbows in an instant, flushed and red cheeked as you stare at Steve in a new light before you’re pushing him away.

You tug at the lacing at the front of his stays before he has a chance to react, the waistband of his trousers loosening before they fall down his thighs, pooling at his ankles. A small confused noise falls from him before he looks at you, your lust filled eyes beckoning him closer as you reach forward to palm him. His eyes roll back as he slumps forward, a breathy chuckle dancing across your neck before he regains himself.  

‘What are you doing?’ He moans, clearly unaccustomed with the notion of tit for tat.

‘Need you,’ you whine, guiding him closer to the growing heat between your thighs as he stares at you, mouth agape. 

His mouth was a wonder, and as you rush forward to capture his lips, you can taste yourself on his tongue. Despite your clear satisfaction dusting his chin, nothing compares to the way he fills you, a tight stretch that you simply open up for, rolling back into the mattress as you almost sob from the sensation.

‘I was…paying tribute,’ Steve grunts out, momentarily forgetting everything but the present moment as he sinks into you, choking on a moan at the back of his throat when he pulls out slowly to slip into you again.

‘That first one was tribute,’ you gasp as he settles a rhythm, hips snapping into you as he’s coated in your slick. ‘Second one was- oh!’ His thumb slinks to your folds, circling you as you find your voice. ‘Uh…second was a treat, this! This one- hmmm,’ he dips his head to suckle on a pulse point in your neck. ‘This is mine.’

‘Mine,’ he growls by your ear, ‘so is that what we’ve chosen then?’

‘Huh?’ Your mind melting at the promise of a third peak on the horizon.

‘I get to call you mine then, yes?’ He asks, rolling into you over and over as you simply nod.

‘Yes,’ you gasp, voice dying out as he pinches you, hauling you into another climax as you shudder around him, his slumped body collapsing on top soon after as you feel him fill you. 

‘Mine,’ he half murmurs, moist lips pepping the exposed skin along your collarbones as your heart rate refuses to calm down. ‘My captain.’

The title has you clenching around him, his length stirring again at the sensation as he groans against your neck.

‘Mine,’ you sigh dreamily, feeling him harden in your heat as his hips start to sloppily grind against you.

‘I think I need to pay tribute some more,’ he all but whimpers, rising onto his elbows as he moves his entire body against you.

‘I’m not Captain till the morning, so you have all night,’ you giggle against his lips that reach up to encase yours.

‘I don’t think one night will be enough Mae,’ he grunts, voice thick with want as his fingers trail to your sweet spots, dragging noises from your lips that shiver against the chilling night air.

One night will certainly not be enough.

Chapter Text

Steve had awoken something dormant inside you. A neediness you never knew you held, a craving so deep inside that once unleashed, you couldn’t close Pandora’s box back up.

Steve’s mouth alone had unlocked a wave of… undeniable pleasure.

And while you had tasted it once before, in a dingy alley, the journeys his lips now took across your body scalded and singed you. Yet the only way to relieve this feeling was to summon more of it.

It seemed entirely counter productive, but rationale seemed to leave you the moment Steve put his hands on you.

Walking down the corridor to the belly of the ship had Steve darting out of the shadows the moment you would pass, swallowing a squeal with a greedy kiss and stealing you away into the darkness behind some crates. Expertly his hands would pawn at your stays, shuffling the material out of the way with a grace only practice could offer, hoisting you onto a barrel as he caressed your thighs, sliding himself inside you as your legs could only curl around him. 

Binding your wrists to the balcony railings in your Captains Quarters as rags remained gritted between your teeth, muffling the moans that escaped you as Steve leisurely ate you out. Trousers strewn across the cabin floor as he refused to release you, not until you had melted into the wood at least three times, slumped and satisfied without worry as to who might see you from above. 

Glancing over charts in the navigation room, door unlocked as Steve stood braced against the table behind you, his long fingers casually tracing along your belt before slipping beneath the waist band, and burying themselves inside your slick walls. 

‘Someone could come in,’ you’d gasp, turning your chin towards his mouth that now suckled along your neck. 

‘Then we better be quick,’ he’d mumble, licking your skin before kissing you hard, his thumb pressing down on a spot that had your knees buckle.

Steve had a special way of dotting your days with stolen kisses and senseless fucking; never had you been so openly wanted - desired even - and you were gorging yourself on it all. Mentally, and physically. 

You were shocked the crew hadn’t nicknamed you pegleg yet with how often you’d spend the morning limping, but they respected you far too much to comment on it, and that made you respect them even more. 

It was of no surprise that out of everyone, Eddie had the most familiarity with you to bravely mention something one night.

The day had been sweltering, freshly washed shirts hanging freely along the sails as you opted to forgo your corset for the day. Your faded cream shirt flapped freely around you, and as you sat on an upper deck with Eddie as you re-tied fishing lines, his eyes couldn’t help but wander. The soft skin along your neck and shoulders, rosy from the heat, lay littered with bruises- no, hickies, and Eddie could barely contain his amusement. Shamelessly he continued to stare, smirking mostly to himself and only averting his gaze when you gave him a look and raised your eyebrows in question.

When the sun melts away and a thin crescent moon takes its place, the deck is littered with lanterns, drinks and music, while dancing feet swarm the wood as the muggy night air laps at everyone’s sweaty faces. The boat simply bobs with the waves, the entire evening a usual occurrence when floating amongst the vast ocean top with little rush to reach a destination.

There’s a calmness to Steve as you dance with the crew that only Eddie seems to notice. Even when he himself twirls you about, Steve’s eyes never harden like they used to. As if all that evident, pent up jealousy he’d been hoarding away for months had somehow been satisfied.

Eddie’s suspicions are all but confirmed when it’s Steve’s turn to dance with you, his hands roaming a little far too familiarly over your body, and your drunken haze doing little to stop him. He whispers soft words against the shell of your ear that has you leaning back in laughter, and the entire scene plays out in front of Eddie in a sort of eureka moment. 

Only when the evening dwindles and the night stars twinkle above do you retreat to your cabin, Eddie stumbling in tow as he nabs you both two half empty bottles in his grip. You both collapse into the seats by your open balcony, all doors ajar as you sip greedily from the smuggled drinks.

‘You seem happy,’ Eddie comments into the night air, a smile swung your way as you copy him.

‘I am,’ you murmur with a nod.

‘Is he that good in bed then?’ He asks, and your jaw drops open, staring at Eddie as he bites back the biggest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen.

‘How did you-‘

‘Oh come on, it’s all over your faces,’ he all but giggles, the booze boosting his bravado before his face calms. ‘It’s sweet really. I’m happy you’re happy.’

‘Are you?’ You query, before shaking your head to rejig the question, ‘happy, I mean. Are you happy?’

And Eddie beams, looking at you like you’ve hung the moon.

‘Course I am Princess,’ he answers, taking a swig from the bottle before lodging it haphazardly between some books on your desk to hold it upright with the waves. ‘And if you ever need a palate cleanser, I’m always available should you need to sample again,’ he grins before you thump his chest.

‘Eddie,’ you murmur in surprise.

‘You’ve… sampled each other?’ Steve’s voice croaks from the open doorway and you spin in your seat in shock.

‘Steve,’ you nearly gasp, stumbling to your feet as you quickly pass your bottle to Eddie.

‘You two… you’ve slept together?’ Steve breathes, and his voice is so soft you can barely hear the edge to his questions.

‘It was a while ago,’ you explain, Eddie following in tow as he wedges your bottle next to his before joining your side.

‘And it didn’t mean anything,’ Eddie adds, as Steve continues to sway in the door.

‘Yeah, nothing,’ you agree, still unable to read Steve’s expression clearly within the shadows.

‘Well not… nothing,’ Eddie mumbles, too drunk to mute it into a whisper. ‘It was still a good night.’

‘Oh my god,’ Steve sighs, and you’re rushing closer in fear he might pass out from the news.

‘It’s not like that okay?’ You coo, hoping to calm him but then you see the edge in his eyes as they sharpen.

‘So you just… had to fuck both of us to figure out who you wanted be with?’ He protests softly, sheer confusion still dousing his words but the bite to his tone was starting to creep through.

‘I chose you Steve,’ you explain plainly, hoping the shy smile on your lips could coax out his own. ‘And besides, Ed’s and I chose to stay friends.’

‘Doors still open though sweets,’ Eddie winks, and you groan, glancing at him over your shoulder.

‘You’re not helping.’

‘So I was just a sample?’ Steve rasps, and you can hear Eddie rolling his eyes behind you at the blatant bout of insecurity clouding the rationale you two were providing.

‘Dude move on, okay?’ Eddie cries, and you can hear the slap of his palms against his thighs as he drops his arms in exasperation. ‘We fucked once. Moons ago. She fucks you what, every night?’

‘Maybe I can actually satisfy her,’ Steve gulps, and you can hear the slight slur to his words as if he too has had far too much to drink tonight. ‘Maybe that’s why she chose me.’

‘Is that a challenge?’ Eddie declares, and you swear he almost sounds giddy at the prospect.

‘Steve look,’ you step forward, placing your clammy palm against the bare chest that peeks through his unbuttoned shirt, ignoring the bolt of heat that shoots between your legs. But the two men can’t break their stare, and soon their mouths are twisting upwards. As if there is no real loser here. No real fight.

‘Let’s just forget about it,’ you push, but Steve’s stare is still locked on Eddie behind you.

‘You really think that after sleeping with her once, you know her better than I do?’ Steve asks, and he sounds… amused.

‘I don’t need to know her body,’ Eddie half argues, ‘I’ve got decades of friendship of knowing her needs, what she loves.’

Steve chuckles softly at that, stepping past you towards Eddie as if he were gravitating towards a conversation instead of a dwindling fight.

‘I’ve seen every inch of her body Eddie, alright? I know exactly how to satisfy her.’

‘Steve stop,’ you turn to follow but your feet remain planted in place as you watch Steve lower himself into one of the armchairs, ‘you’re drunk.’

‘I bet I can I still make her legs shake within the first few minutes,’ Eddie boasts, joining Steve as he swipes a bottle nearby to uncork it between them.

‘How about making her toes curl?’ Steve smirks, Eddie looking mildly impressed now. 

Where did this fight go? 

‘Guys,’ you half chuckle dryly, ‘come on-‘ but they were ignoring you now.

‘It’s all about the fingers,’ Eddie passes the open bottle to Steve after taking a swig.

‘It’s all about the tongue.’

‘Tongue?’ Eddie’s eyes widen as Steve nods, the bottle popping from his lips as he wipes his mouth.

‘Yeah you gotta use your mouth on her,’ he explains, as if the topic were as natural as discussing the weather or map co-ordinates. ‘Gods, she tastes divine.’

‘Fuck…’ Eddie groans, low and deep in appreciation as they share another swig from the bottle, hazy eyes that finally land on you.

‘You want to show him darling?’ Steve asks pointedly, and you eyebrows shoot up.

‘What?’ Your voice but a whisper.

‘Show him what you taste like,’ Steve slow blinks, and you swear your mind blanks.

‘I thought you were just arguing about the fact that we’d slept together and now you’re… you’re handing me over?’ Your voice comes out strangled, soft and thin and entirely perplexed.

‘No no no… I’m sharing,’ Steve chuckles, his head tilting back leisurely. ‘If you want to, f’course…’ but Steve was looking at Eddie now, not you, and the lighting bolt coursed through you once more.

What was happening?

‘How about we make it interesting,’ Eddie mumbles around a final glug of rum. ‘A friendly bet?’

‘I’m listening,’ Steve says. So were you.

‘A challenge of who can make her cum the quickest,’ Eddie smirks, and you couldn’t tell if the mirth behind his words was determination or jest. Regardless, it didn’t matter for Steve was brimming with intent, eyes fixed on Eddie as he straightens assuredly. 

‘Well once she cums once, they all tend to follow in a quick succession,’ Steve says adamantly, plainly. As if it were a fact of science and not a brag of his own talents. You weren’t sure if you were more ashamed or more turned on.

‘How about who can make her cum the most?’ Steve offers instead, as if they were discussing chores for a day, as mundane as they were and the logistics to go about it. ‘You with your fingers, and me with my mouth.’

Your thighs clench, remembering Eddie’s long fingers and Steve’s dexterous tongue.

‘What about both?’ Eddie shrugs casually, and you swear the heat in the room increases like a furnace.

Heavens alive.

‘Good idea, that way you get to taste her,’ Steve quickly nods, agreeing with their plan. ‘Fuck, man she has the sweetest-‘

‘Guys!’ You finally croak, both their hungry gazes finally landing on you. ‘Don’t I get a choice in this?’

But Steve could tell from your flushed cheeks that you had not only been enjoying the conversation, you’d been imagining it too.

‘Course you do,’ he stands carefully, leisurely walking across the room as a large palm anchors itself to your hip, his head dipping to nestle by your ear while his other hand starts to unlace the fronts of your stays.

‘If I slide my hand inside,’ his voice raspy as his finger skirts across your abdomen, ‘we’ll have our answer.’

‘What?’ Your voice quiet, and it elicits a quiet chuckle from Eddie as he stands to his feet to join.

‘If you’re dry, then we stop,’ Steve says nonchalantly, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your knickers. ‘But if you’re wet…’ he pauses as his finger slides between your folds, your jaw slackening at the sensation as he copies you with an arrogant smile. You could feel the squelch of your wetness spilling onto his fingertips, and he leans down to kiss you.

‘Do you want to stop?’ he asks into your mouth, the nudge of his finger sliding inside you as you whine from the stretch.

‘No,’ you gasp, his finger crooking inside as your legs start to wobble. ‘Don’t stop,’ you sigh into Steve’s mouth, and you surprise yourself with how clear your words come out despite the raging inferno dancing in your belly; a deadly mix of alcohol and arousal.

A second finger joins the stretch, and a wall soon meets your back, Steve’s effortless steps guiding your back before you lean against the wood. ‘Don’t stop.’

‘That’s my girl. Show him those pretty noises you can make,’ Steve groans, tugging down your stays with his free hand. His exposed chest burns into your front through your shirt, and you all but whimper when his fingers slip from you as he drops to his knees, unlacing your boots off and shredding your stays free.

Barely a heartbeat passes before his tongue laps at your core, a long thick stripe from your entrance to your nub, a shaky noise escaping you as Eddie slowly steps into view.

‘You gonna show me then princess?’ His doe eyes hook on yours as he palms your cheek, sinking his fingers into your scalp. You didn’t realise you were holding your breath until you are gasping, eyes fluttering against the assault between your legs as Steve’s shoulder hooks under a thigh to lock you into place.

There is something truly intoxicating about having your best friend watch your lover eat you out, the way his hungry gaze travels from your panting mouth down to your drooling lips, up to your stiffening nipples pushing up against your thin, useless shirt. 

As if to remind you where he was, Steve’s tongue plunges inside you, filling you with a thickness that makes your back arch, your fingers immediately diving into his hair for balance.

‘Fuck,’ you gasp, and Eddie smiles at the sound, his fingers smoothing across your chest to give your nipple a playful tweak. ‘Ah-!’

‘Hey,’ Steve moans, pulling back from your pussy to glare at Eddie. ‘That’s cheating.’

‘What’s cheating?’

‘You cant touch her when I’m touching her.’

‘I thought the whole point was to make her cum.’

‘No, the bet was who could make her cum the most. You’re more than welcome to touch her but just know it’ll count as my point-‘

‘Steve,’ you whine, his hot breath dancing along your quivering lips setting you alight while they argued.

‘Hm?’ He looks up at you momentarily clueless, until he sees the blown look in your eyes, rich with lust. Without hesitation he scoops you up by your thighs and throws you onto the mattress. You squeal at the bounce, your shirt dangling along your hips at the movement as Eddie and Steve stand at the end of your four poster bed, watching you.

‘New bet,’ Steve starts, shrugging off his unbuttoned shirt now before his hands go to his belt. ‘We both make her cum as much as possible, until she can’t walk.’

‘What?’ You giggle, slightly sheepish at the amount of attention you were garnering from the two stripping men, all hints of amusement vanishing as they start to crawl onto the mattress.

‘I’ll take those odds,’ Eddie mumbles, the clank of his belt buckle hitting the floor before he joined you both, the three of you now awkwardly spaced across your large mattress, lounging on your sides in preparation.

‘There’s no odds,’ you tried to joke, but Eddie’s mouth silences you, kissing you hard as he pushes you down onto the mattress. Hot, insistent, heavy, his tongue swipes your lips before he deepens the kiss, and as if one tongue wasn’t enough, Steve’s finds your clit once more. 

Eddie swallows the moan that rips free, pinning you to the mattress as his wandering fingers slip beneath your shirt and find your sensitive nipples. You try to writhe against the sensations, but Steve now has you pinned at the hips, his fore arms locked against your under thighs as you’re spread open for his hungry, devious mouth.

You swear stars start to twinkle behind your eyes, and when Eddie’s mouth moves to suckle along your neck, your whole body sings, moans of pleasure urging the men on like music. Your hands grab whatever they can reach; Eddie’s curls as he laps at a nipple or Steve’s locks as he sucks on your clit.

Locked in place, unable to move and unwilling to leave, a knot starts to tighten deep in your belly. Both men are groaning earnestly, spurring your sinking thoughts and coaxing you higher and higher, until a mewl gets lodged in your throat, only released at the harsh tug against your clit as Steve’s finger silently slips inside you.

You break. Full and dense with desire as something snaps within you, and then you’re falling, silently blacking out only to be brought to by the overzealous attention of two men worshipping your body.

‘Fuc-‘ you writhe, breathy and lost to the room as they mercilessly continue, pinching and squeezing and sucking and licking until you’re crashing into another peak, the mattress engulfing your neck as you arch into their mouths against all rationale.

Only when you can taste your heartbeat do they release you, hovering over your spent body with smug smiles as you stare at them in disbelief.

‘Wow,’ you pant, and they chuckle in agreement before Eddie’s glancing down at Steve.

‘My turn,’ he says before shuffling down the bed and nudging Steve out the way.

‘Of course,’ Steve offers, moving aside to climb up towards you. ‘What is mine is yours.’

‘What does that mean?’ You ask, briefly forgetting why Eddie was lying at your feet.

‘It means,’ Steve murmurs, lips now hovering over yours as he unbuttons the rest of your shirt to fall open, ‘that I love you. And your happiness, is my happiness. Your pleasure is my pleasure. And so what brings me joy is when you’re all of those things.’

His eyes are slightly hooded now, and you can’t tell if what he’s said makes any logical sense, other than that he loves you.

‘I think I might be too drunk too fully understand that right now,’ you pant, anticipation rising as you feel Eddie’s breath against your inner thighs, ‘but I love you too- oh!’

You glance down to catch Eddie staring up at you, kitten licking your folds as he deepens with every stroke.

‘Oh my god,’ you cry out, Steve’s face faltering for only a second.

‘You didn’t pray when I was licking you,’ his lips peppering along your collarbones as you pant into his ear.

‘That’s b’cause Ed- was kissing me-‘ Steve’s lips travelled higher encasing your own as he drowned out the wails that Eddie was summoning from you.

Desire crawls along your skin, coating your every hair and sound until you are primed for another peak. You barely have a moment to breathe through the rum soaked thoughts that prickle your insides before you start to crack and split open. 

Wide and yearning, soaking in every minuscule touch that the men offer your oversensitive body.

They’re determined to see how many they can wrench from you, and with your drunk addled mind and willing body, you have no rush to stop them.

It’s a long night.

Chapter Text

Months easily slip by as you sail through southern waters and a balmy winter, your crew warm from unity, and your bed warm from company.

Your next destination had been set for a coast few knew, a recommendation made by Steve one evening when you had been observing charts amongst the candlelight of your cabin. Eddie had taken up residence amongst the velvet armchair in the corner, and his nod of approval sealed the journey onto the course. 

Mooring at ports with a galleon held its advantages, signing in as traders and boarding easily with little cause for concern as you all set foot on dry, firm land.

Despite the well stocked inventory of the ship once taken over, it didn’t mean that ‘trading’ amongst the isles was something you’d prohibit. In fact, as the crew disembarked, you readily encouraged them all to explore, find what they could, and simply return by the cover of sunset, seeing as their piracy personas were no longer evident.

With Pete offering to collect the bare essentials for the crew, a few Naval coins from the Captains desk found their way into his pockets - to help confirm your new identities as traders.

‘Come on then Prince-y!’ Dickie chuckled, slapping Steve’s shoulder as he hauled him into a small group of other deckhands as they wondered down a dusty path, ‘gotta show us wha’s so great ‘bout this place then eh?’

They smiled as they wondered off, Eddie sticking at your side as Pete sighed at your other.

‘Imma go find meself an ‘erbalist too,’ Pete winced, palming his back, ‘that last stretch tore me up some’in bad.’

‘Alright then Pete,’ you chuckled, watching as he hobbled after the rest of the crew, Eddie rounding himself into your vision with a grin.

‘Where to Prin- Captain,’ he corrected himself with a quirked lip, earning a soft slap to the chest.

‘You know I don’t like you calling me that,’ you scoffed, ambling down the beat up path to a square that bustled with people.

‘But you are my captain,’ he insisted with a tone that teased your heartstrings. ‘What else am I supposed to call you?’

‘Mae,’ you replied instantly, ‘or anything else that isn’t Captain.’

‘Captain O Captain,’ he began to sing, another slap to his arm that huffed the song out of him. 

‘Seriously stop.’

‘Alright then sweetheart,’ Eddie conceded, a softness to his face that churned your insides at the flushing familiarity of the nickname.

‘Thank you,’ you blushed, looking straight ahead as your eyes caught sight of a mottled establishment that seemed to be bursting at the seams with people. ‘Anywhere in-particular you wanted to see while we’re here?’

Eddie followed your eye line, a grin spreading across his lips in recognition.

‘Tavern?’

‘Tavern.’

~ ~ ~

A couple of local ales managed to calm the drumming of your heart only a little, something you found it often did if there was distance between you and Steve. You internally grimaced at the woman you were slowly turning into, someone who fawned over a man, but Steve had awakened something within you - something you thought near impossible for a life at sea with men you would consider close family.

Steve had provided a comfort you struggled to find - or keep - and foolishly you clung to it, the relief of company winding itself around your tender heart, and squeezing until it was all you could think about.

Who would have thought that you would end up being utterly, and irrevocably besotted, with a prince?

Eddie’s comfort warmed your sides as you stumbled back into the square, colourful stalls with rough canopies hiding most of the midday sun as you sidetracked the people winding through.

Fresh fruit, strong spices, warm bread - all hidden under the sun bleached covers of the market, a marvel in its own that you were pleasantly surprised Steve knew about.

A stall with rich silks of greens and reds caught your eye, and as you wondered over, leaving Eddie by a moonshine stand, you hummed in delight as you fingered the soft fabric.

The starchy material of the Naval guards uniforms were an ideal necessity when all of your belongings lay at the bottom of the ocean, but now that you could touch - and afford - the beautiful material before you, it was almost too good to ignore.

‘Mae?’

You turned at the sound, surprised by Eddie’s higher voice as you expected him to step over before you were met with the kind, round face of someone with equal taste, and who always looked out for you.

‘Bridget?’ You gasped, wide smiles cracking both your faces as she rushed to engulf you in a clammy hug.

‘Are you alright? How have you been? Where have you been? I mean… I know where, the ocean ha-‘ she paused, swallowing her mile a minute questions as you looked back at her. Her eyes journeyed over your face and clothes; the richly embroidered bodice a contrast to the plain baggy coverings underneath before catching on your eyes again. ‘Sorry, it’s just really good to see you.’

‘You too,’ you replied honestly. ‘Have you kept well?’

She nodded earnestly. ‘Yes yes, and you?’

‘I have,’ you smiled back, both of your hands somehow finding them clasped in hers as you swore her eyes were nearly watering. The same watery eyes that swung their gaze across your shoulder, no doubt taking in the sight of a scruffy Eddie sampling another drink.

‘You made it back to your ship?’ She asked kindly, eliciting another nod from you.

‘Mhmm, well… a ship, but my crew nonetheless,’ you offered, before your tongue was asking the questions that formed stones in your stomach. ‘Are you here alone?’

‘No, not alone… well here yes,’ she giggled, clearly the lack of a palace decorum allowing her domestic clumsy speech to seep through, ‘but um… no we all made it here in one piece.’

‘We?’ You asked, daring yourself to push for the answers you weren’t sure you wanted.

‘Myself, Fanny, Constance,’ she breathed, ‘and the King and Queen.’

Her smile had faltered for a beat, and only after you realised your own had likely dropped at the mention, your throat bobbing as you readied for the next inevitable question.

‘And did you manage to escape unscathed?’ She pushed, ‘you and Prince Steve?’

You hid the thickening of your tongue with a cough, a nod all you could muster.

‘The Queen will be so glad to hear it. Has he travelled with your crew?’ She continued, unaware of the swirling in your stomach.

He travelled as part of the crew. He is part of the crew. Part of your crew.

But how long will that stay once he knows that his parents were safe and sound in this bay… that he had conveniently suggested.

The pieces fell into place around you, Bridget’s kind face bringing you back with a soft squeeze of your palms.

‘Yes he has,’ you got out, flipping the questioning back. ‘So what brought you all here then? It’s a little warmer than the old Palace.’

‘Yes well, the King and Queen are close family friends with the Sovereigns of this land so refuge into the bay was an ease,’ Bridget explained. ‘We’ve been here for a while now, and though it’s awfully different from the bay, it certainly has its own perks.’

The stall tender called out to her then, leaning across the cart as he handed Bridget a tightly wrapped package knotted with rope, a blush creeping to her cheeks that she could likely deny as sunburn if it weren’t for the wink the tender offered her as their fingers touched.

‘I can see,’ you teased quietly, shocking Bridget back to reality as she shot you a look.

‘Well you’re one to talk. Stealing the Prince away in the middle of a raid only for the both of you to remain hidden from sight for months.’ You could tell the half-scolding, half-taunting tone behind her words. ‘The Queen had bets on how long it would take for you both to turn up here, either married or pregnant.’

You audibly gulped, the idea preposterous, and still not entirely false.

‘Wait-‘ she caught on far too quick to your expression before you absorbed it all into a neutral composure.

‘No!’ You said a little too loud, Eddies head turning now as he watched your figure sway amongst the crowds. ‘No we’re not… that.’

For all the eloquence and words in the world, nothing could describe your situation better than what it is not.

‘So you are-‘

‘Is the Queen holding company then?’ You interrupted, hopeful the change of topic could scour the sourness in your chest. Your eyes dropped to the package, remembering the many seamstress visits the Queen had before a ball. Bridget nodded. 

‘It’s only a small thing given the size of the villa,’ she continued, taking the bait with a knowing scrunch of her brows. ‘But the Sovereigns hold a garden party to welcome the new spring hours, and the Queen was eager to help.’

‘That sounds lovely,’ an honest smile taking over your lips now. 

‘And she’ll be so happy to hear that you and the Prince have arrived - she has been so worried not receiving word from him,’ guilt coiled around your heart and tightened. ‘Prince Steve has arrived for the solstice yes?’

Suffocation squeezed you next. Steve knew about this house, this solstice, this party. He knew. 

‘Truthfully this is the first I’m hearing about it,’ you swallowed thickly, plastering back on the feigned smile you expertly wore. 

‘I know it’s a far cry from your pirate life, but it would be so good for you to attend. Seeing as you’ve delivered the Prince safely back to us.’

There it was. The continued expectation of your mercenary title - merely around to keep the royals safe from harm. A postal service to deliver them back to their rightful people. 

‘Sure,’ the smile tightening against your cheeks as you gritted your teeth into a practiced grin. ‘Well I guess we’ll see you soon.’

‘Stay safe,’ she said, stroking your arm before you started walking back through the crowds. 

Swarms of people buzzed around you but they could barely touch you as everything tilted into a perspective you’d dare not accept. 

If all they saw you as was a merc in a dress- no, a pirate, then that’s what you’d be. 

And pirates were well known for their thievery. 

Eddie’s shadow darkens your vision, his frame filling the space in front as his eyes track over your shoulder. 

‘Isn’t that-‘ he asks, but your feet find their speed and push past him in the other direction. 

‘No it isn’t,’ you say briskly, winding back through the market towards your ship as Eddie follows silently. ‘Let’s go.’

~ ~ ~

The ship glided smoothly along the waves, the floorboards barely rocking from the motion as your insides squirmed into a frenzy. 

The cool night air caressed the deck, a sharpening chill scooting everyone not working into the hull. You’d found yourself privy to noting the stock again, something you often did after a run, the mental arithmetic’s of rations allowing you to estimate how long you could all go before another stop was required. 

You were heading to your cabin not soon after, eyes tired from the day and weary from your thoughts. The hidden corridors tucked under the decking portholes swallowed your footsteps, and as Steve started walking towards you from your cabin alley, your chest lifted with ease. 

Until his stormy gaze stepped through the shadows. 

‘You found my parents?’ His brows scrunched with little introduction, his sharp tongue pricking the air as you halted in place. 

‘Where did you hear that?’ You stalled him, hanging the question in the air despite already subconsciously knowing the answer. 

It was probably Eddie. Probably in passing. Probably unknowingly setting ablaze to a kindling he had no understanding of. 

‘That doesn’t matter,’ Steve skirted the question, stepping closer as you found yourself for the first time fighting the urge to retreat in kind. ‘You found them?’

‘Not… your parents,’ you got out, gaze travelling down his scruffy shirt as you struggled to look into his burning stare. ‘I found Bridget.’

‘And what did she say?’ He pushed, arms crooked at the elbows as he rested his palms on his hips, the typical, impatient prince pose you’d slowly come to find endearing. 

Until it was aimed at you. 

‘That your family were safe and settled…’

‘In that bay?’ He interrupted, his testy tone finally igniting that emotion you’d kept bottled up, in fear of it overwhelming that smothering guilt you tampered with, for avoiding this exact moment. 

Anger. 

‘Is that why you pushed for us to go there?’ you flipped the attention, a flare of something close to realisation crossing Steve’s expression as he took in the tone you now held. 

‘What?’ His voice considerably smaller, as if he hadn’t anticipated for you to make the connection so quick. 

An assumption on your intellect he’d never commit again. 

‘You were so adamant we visit this amazing bay we’ve never ventured to,’ your voice rising with theatrics, the groaning of the ship muffled by your words, ‘why didn’t you tell me it was a fucking ally kingdom?’

‘Don’t go turning this around on me,’ Steve straightened, lips pursing together. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you’d found my parents?’

‘I-‘

‘You know how badly I’ve wanted to hear of them,’ he cut in. ‘And the fact that they were there? Just there, on that island?’ His voice rising in volume. ‘And you let us leave!’

‘I thought you already knew. And I didn’t tell you because I thought you were one of us!’ You shouted, the urgency of your words rushing from you like a leak. 

Steve stared at you, mildly surprised by your outburst, your admission, but mostly from how utterly crestfallen you looked.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You… you’re a pirate Steve,’ you breathed out helplessly, a tsunami of emotions bashing around inside you as you simply inhaled. ‘I thought you were one of us. I thought you… wanted to stay with us. I thought you’d chosen us.’ 

I thought you’d chosen me, is what you were really saying.

And suddenly Steve saw it all, the bubbling insecurity of how you thought he’d choose them. Choose to go back to royalty. A preposterous notion when you, his entire world, stood before him. 

But… would he?

‘I... I have,’ he stammered out, a dry, disbelieving huff escaping you.

‘You’re going to need to work on that if you’re going to try and convince me.’

‘No I-I have alright? Look I made my decision that night in the palace,’ he said, as if repeating the words would give them more weight. ‘That I would stay with you.’

‘And ever since all you’ve been thinking about is making your way back to your parents,’ you exclaimed. 

‘No I’ve been wanting to make sure they’re safe,’ he countered.

‘Okay, and now you’ve found out they’re safe. And settled,’ you laid it out, setting the scene. ‘So what are you going to do?’

Steve could only falter. ‘I…’

‘You can say that you’re a pirate, that you’re one of us, that you choose this life,’ you explained, a wildfire brewing behind your words as they hit their mark, ‘but that does not mean you drop it all when a better option comes around.’

‘Why would you think I would leave this?’ He breathed, as if the idea ridiculous when in truth, you could already see it all. 

‘Because you want to Steve,’ you said, plain and sad as you watched his nose scrunch up. ‘I don’t think you even realise it but you loved your life in that palace. You’ve never had a bad thing to say about it, and I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to leave a life that suited me so well. It’s why I refuse to leave this crew-‘

‘Mae,’ his tone understanding where you were leading.

‘-but you want to see your parents. Your… happily married parents that are safe in a bay you know and love, and you want to see them, and then after you’ve seen them you’ll want to stay and then before you know it you’re back to being a prince and your days as a pirate are long forgotten and nothing but a story.’

You gulped a breath that sounded more like a choke, and in that heartbeat Steve could see how shattered you were. Despite this hard, pirate, captain-authority shell you’d wrapped around yourself, you were still just a girl, moments away from heartbreak. 

‘You’re not a story Mae.’

‘But there’s some truth in all that though, isn’t there?’

Steve was quiet.

‘I’m not going to hold it against you,’ you sniffed. ‘I won’t make someone stay when they want to leave. Not even if they don’t realise it themselves yet.’

You turned on the spot, retreating down the corridor you’d just walked as Steve followed at your heel. ‘Mae-‘

‘I’ll turn us around,’ you said with a finality that had Steve’s pulse pause. 

‘I don’t want to leave you,’ his voice pitching as he paced to keep up. 

‘Again,’ you all but yelled over your shoulder, ‘that’s not very convincing.’

Steve skirted past your arm as he blocked your path, doe eyes wide as he held you in place with soft palms to your shoulders. ‘I love you.’

‘You’re practicing,’ you shrugged off his touch, overwhelmed by the words, the admission, the situation. ‘Practicing for when you find a real Princess you can say that too.’

You made to round him before he sidestepped you again.

‘I don’t want a Princess,’ he said almost intuitively, as if those were the words he was supposed to say to diffuse this clear vulnerability you were holding on to. 

‘Then what am I?’ You looked up at him. 

‘You’re…‘ he paused, a lifetime of compliments dancing on his tongue as he took in your fallen face, and wavering lip.

‘I just thought… that if you didn’t want to be with me you’d have the decency to break it off yourself, and not make me do all the work,’ you dropped your head, hiding his chasing gaze as you managed to take a step back. 

‘Mae-‘

‘I- I thought you chose me,’ you stuttered, soft gasps leaving you as you covered your mouth.

‘I did…’ Steve insisted, correcting himself a moment too late. ‘I have.’

A creaking silence engulfed the now swaying hall, as if the choppy waves outside could no longer smooth the upset leaving you. 

The air around you crackled; dry and charged as all words in your mouth now tasted like chalk, and in the quiet you let yourself breathe. 

And then let go. 

‘What’s going on?’ Benji’s small voice called out from the end of the hall, his uncertain face dappled in the moonlight streaming through the rafters above. 

You pivoted in place, ignoring the perceptively silent prince as you expertly dried your soul with a simple inhale, before walking towards the deckhand.

‘We’re turning around,’ you said firmly, both Benji and Steve scuttling behind you. 

‘No, Mae wait-‘

‘Turn’n around?’ The young boy asked, no ire thrown his way as it wasn’t his fault he found himself in the moment. 

‘We forgot something in the bay,’ your words monotonous and unfeeling as you stormed ahead. 

‘Mae!’ Steve cried urgently, racing to reach you. 

‘Forgot wha’?’

‘We forgot to leave Steve behind,’ you said. 

‘Leave him behind cap’n?’ His voice pitching in concern. 

‘Every man for himself, isn’t that right Steve?’ You were angry now, releasing it into the moonlight as you scaled the ladder upwards and breached the deck. ‘It’s what you read about all of us pirates you were so interested in.’

‘Stop this,’ Steve grunted, bolting towards you across the deck as the few night crew turned at the outburst, ‘don’t turn around.’

‘Why are you fighting it!’

His grip hooked on your elbow, reeling you back to face him as his appearance looked fractured. ‘Because it should be my decision.’

‘Okay,’ you nodded, eyeing him with a vex he’d never seen honestly thrown his way, ‘convince me you want to stay.’

Steve stepped forward, ignoring the watchful stares of the crew as he reached to cradle your face, instinctively leaning in before you slap him. Hard. 

‘With your words, Steve,’ you spit, his palm rubbing his cheek as he came to terms with the fact that you really did just slap him, and he’s silent. Aghast, confused and fresh out of luck. 

‘Do you want to stay or do you want to run back into the safety of your royalty?’ 

At his silent pout you drew your dagger, the tip pricking the pulse under his neck in what used to be a flirtatious little dance between you, but now all manner of fondness had left, replaced by a burning hurt that fuelled you. 

A hurt brimming with the knowledge that Steve had known about this bay, this kingdom, this safety net this entire time, and only after he’d stolen your everything to gain safe passage to it does he reveal its location. As if he were just using you as a means to an end, to get back home. Like royalty so often does.

‘Your captain has asked you a question,’ you say pointedly, but his silence is answer enough.

Without looking at your crew, knowing they were holding onto your every word, you lifted your chin with newly summoned strength.

‘Turn around.’

Chapter Text

Pastel pinks paint the underbellies of passing gulls as you glide back into port, the dawn wind combing its cool fingers across your scalp before the morning sun finally breaks free.

The bay is asleep as you cruise in, and you carefully extend the gangway so to not rouse anyone nearby. Footsteps on deck are muffled as Steve shuffles to the gap, and your crew circle around in an oddly unified display of farewell. 

Your crew trusted you, followed you. 

It didn’t mean that this departure was leaving them free from cuts. Steve had managed to integrate himself into the crew, into the family, and while unspoken were it may be, your relationship with him wasn’t the only bond he’d formed on board. 

Their goodbyes had been hidden below deck, away from your gaze and entirely for your benefit, so as Steve surveyed the deck, only one goodbye remained. 

One you were not willing to part with. 

‘It doesn’t have to be like this,’ Steve pleads, stepping towards you as you stand unwavering by the gulleys edge. ‘I don’t want to leave-‘

‘But you need to,’ you insisted, palm facing towards the plank as you stared ahead. ‘You can’t be fully part of this crew until you have all your answers.’

Answers to what exactly? Steve wasn’t sure, but he didn’t push, testing another step closer which you avidly shifted from. 

‘Your mother will be pleased to have you back,’ you ignored the motion, glancing down the ramp before chancing a look back at the prince. 

The prince who’d stolen your thoughts and affections, whipping them into something entirely new, morphing you into someone you never dreamed of. 

The prince who said he loved you, but unknowingly kept an eye on the horizon for his kingdoms emblem, for something better, more suited to him. 

The prince who would always choose royalty, over freedom on the waves. 

‘Please consider this my final act of service under your mother’s employment,’ you stated, watching as Steve’s face fell, twisting into … confusion? Disgust? You weren’t able to pin it, and for the first time you couldn’t read him. 

It was probably for the best. 

His fingers tightened into fists at his sides, as if he were debating the bottled feelings inside before he scoffed, irate indifference finally taking over as he took his first step off the boat, and down the walkway. 

‘Consider your contract completed,’ he grumbled, his words only reaching you, as you watched his back shrink along the gravelled streets, before disappearing around a large building on the corner of the square. 

Out of sight, yet rudely not out of mind. 

Your crew don’t stop you as you walk to your cabin, the ship silently leaving port as your unspoken orders to set sail ring clear. 

~ ~ ~

Tortuga rum has a special kick. It runs down smooth, tickling your throat with a warmth you hiss at before fizzing in your chest and burning behind your eyes. It’s not for the faint hearted, but years of practice makes it enjoyable to those who can muster the courage.

Not even the sharpness of its bite touches your sides as you knock back drink after drink, and only when the edges of your vision start to sparkle and blur do you peel back from the bench, surveying the scene that is Tortuga’s top tavern.

The last time you were here Steve had sat nervously at your side, eyeing the room with newfound wonder as the table discussed sex and tomatoes.

Now the bench sits sparse, your crew vaguely dispersed around the establishment as only Eddie and Pete could bare to brave your storm.

It wasn’t that they were trying to actively avoid you - your crew loved you, but they knew the dent that Steve had left in your chest at his leaving. They held similar marks too, but none could fathom the loss you were experiencing. 

It had been a few weeks since he left, Tortuga being an easy stop between cruises, and despite the scorned temptation to pillage random Naval ships, you’d pass along unnoticed instead, stopping at ports to drink yourself away.

The tavern smells ripe, drinks flowing and music roaring as the afternoon sun pierces through the window shutters, Eddie and Pete continuing their conversation around you, your input often waning these days anyway. 

‘See that’s what I said!’ Eddie smacks his palm down animatedly, rattling the goblets as Pete nodded in earnest. 

‘And I bet they didn’t, eh?’

‘Nope,’ Eddie shakes his head violently with pursed lips.

Pete tuts. ‘Told you. No point trying to haggle with ‘em musicians Eds. They all bit too precious ‘bout their woods an’ such.’

The music continues lulling from the corner, undeterred by Eddie’s begging a little earlier, and accepting defeat, his shoulders slump. ‘I just wanted to have a go on the lute.’

His drunk pout rouses a sly smile from you, a token he latches onto as he exaggerates his pity party further. 

‘I mean, they gotta stop at some point right?’ he moans. ‘Have a rest, catch a breath. And y’know… maybe they’d be so impressed with my skills that they’d have to ask me to join them,’ he shrugs, a cackle leaving Pete at the idea.

‘Like you’d ev’r think of leav’n us to go join a band.’

‘It’s the thought that counts Pete,’ Eddie throws back, mock hurt at his words of ill-confidence. 

‘Well wherever you end up Ed’s, we won’t be far behind,’ you murmur now, eyeing up your empty cup with a tipped wrist as he beams at you.

‘Can’t seem to get rid of you can I?’ He jokes, a full cheesy smile taking over his face that takes little effort to spread to yours as the rum sinks deeper.

‘I could do them bell things,’ Pete adds, ‘what they called? Those um… tamb’reens!’

‘You would do very nicely on the tambourine Pete,’ you share your grin now, his sun-wrinkled face taking you in.

‘You could do the spoons,’ Eddie nudges you, a feigned gasp leaving you as your body began to mellow out.

‘I could do the spoons,’ you repeat, as if this was your new life goal.

Forget being a pirate, or a captain. Clearly you were destined to join a band and play the spoons with Pete on the tambourine, and Eddie on the lute.

The dazed dream dims only at the squeak of the front door, a callously cleared throat announcing a speakers arrival as he steps onto the stage, the music melting away as they pause for the day’s news.

‘Oh so they stop for him,’ Eddie grumbles, earning a quick shush from Pete as he registers how quiet the tavern had suddenly fallen.

‘Attention hear ye, hear ye,’ the man begins, clad in black lapels and a triangle hat the curls up at the edges as he reads quickly from a scroll in a disengaged, monotonous tone. ‘The royal family of the Western isles happily announce the engagement of their son Prince Harrington, who is to be married within the month. The wedding will be a private occasion, but the family welcomes all who…’

Bubbles burst your mind, drowning out the drone of the speaker’s voice as he delivers a fatal blow you had not anticipated. He continues, unaffected by the silenced audience member as he reads the daily news with little emotion, as if taxes weren’t increasing and astrologers fear the moon may be falling to earth no-

No, the world carries on spinning despite your heart being plundered with the news that Steve has moved on. Unwaveringly so by the sounds of it, wedding bells chiming in his near future as you remain cast aside.

You don’t even notice that the announcements have finished until Eddie’s hand is warm on your shoulder, his face peering into view.

‘I’m sorry Mae,’ he murmurs, Pete nodding in agreement from the other side of the table.

‘Why are you sorry?’ You try to deflect with a weak smile. ‘It’s not like it- it affects me or anything,’ you shrug your shoulders, hoping it is convincing enough for them to drop their concerns. ‘It’s great news for Steve, I’m happy for him.’

‘Well that’s bullshit,’ Eddie scoffs instantly, calling you out as you fight the urge to cower under the accusation.

‘Pardon?’

‘C’mon love, no point lyin’ to us,’ Pete’s voice coos through, ‘we all knew how much he meant to ya.’

‘Look, if he wants to leave us all behind and jump straight into a royal proposal then… then so be it,’ you sniff, suddenly the emotions bubbling within you as you register what this means. That the person you love- loved, has well and truly moved on. And publicly too. You don’t realise your eyes are welling until Eddie’s arm is flung over your shoulders, dragging you into the crook of his chest.

‘It was… I don’t even know why I’m upset,’ you swallow your sadness, ‘it was only for a few full moons, I mean-‘

‘Mae stop,’ Eddie interrupts you smoothly, tugging you back from his hold to look at you fully. ‘You knew him for almost a year. That’s not just a little thing. I… I know how it was in that palace- I mean not fully, but I saw how you both … behaved around each other, and how happy he made you. Even if you didn’t realise it at the time. You enjoyed that summer and even if you didn’t like the palace, you liked his company.’

How had Eddie managed to read you so well?

‘So yeah, this wedding? Huge dick move on his part,’ he finishes.

‘Yeah,’ you choked out a chuckle in agreement, Pete silently sliding another drink across the table which you gratefully accepted. 

The rum burned your throat as it always did, trickling down like lava before it pooled in your gut, churning what had been momentary sorrow into stone, hardening inside you as the regret started to hiss away.

If Prince Steve had the gall to publicise his ability to move on so easily and slip back into his royal realm, then you wouldn’t cast him another thought. 

In fact, you would become the opposite of whatever malleable thing his affections had softened you into - you would become a menace.

~ ~ ~

‘Four shillings, no less,’ the gruff man barked, his white beard stark against his clammy red face.

A new day called for a new port and a new market, and while inventory stocks were nevertheless plentiful thanks to your rigorous rationing, visiting different towns and testing new cultures was something to take your mind off of…

‘Three,’ you countered, tipping your chin defiantly as Eddie’s long fingers wrapped loosely around your bicep. 

‘Mae it’s fine,’ he said under his breath, overwhelmingly aware of the attention your argument could garner. 

Haggling was a speciality of yours. It particularly came in handy when your crew would completely butcher the bartering process for simple stock, but you weren’t to hold it over them. 

Besides, you really enjoyed haggling, especially the back talk. 

Especially when you could do so little to escape the constant updates of a royal wedding that seemed to follow you to every island.

‘Four shillings,’ the man repeated as you inhaled sharply, your chest spilling across the top of your corset before you released a breath. 

‘Judging from the fraying on this rope I bet it was imported from the North. Not even waxed properly before it was knotted no-‘ you cleared your throat, ‘no this isn’t worth four shillings sir, it’s barely worth one. I’d bet it cost you just a few pennies to source this from the farmer, but the wool from the North isn’t thick enough so you had to mix it in with something else and- see?’ You picked up the end of the rope, edges fraying in all ways as you smiled coyly, ‘falling apart. This won’t hold a person let alone a sail.’

‘And how do you know what kind of rope holds a person?’ He eyes you carefully, a look you expertly dodge. 

‘All I’m saying, is sell it at three, and we’ll leave you be.’

‘Look… Miss,’ he leans forward now, the hustle of the market edging away, ‘I can sell you it for three, but you gotta stop blabbing.’

‘Two?’ You tested with a squint, the man’s firm face easing back. 

‘Three shillings, no less.’ 

‘Deal,’ you grinned, flicking the coins and hauling the rope off the pole as Eddie hooked it over his shoulder. 

‘How did you know all of that?’ Eddie asked, mildly amused as you both sauntered down the path. This market was hot and sticky, brimming with spices and dusty rags, but the paths cleared easily for those brave enough to not follow the shaded routes.

‘I didn’t,’ you chuckled, ‘just guessed, but everyone’s got a bone to pick with the North so it was a safe bet.’

‘One day Mae, you won’t be able to talk yourself out of something,’ Eddie says, partially serious as you throw him a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.

‘Actually, I was talking you out of something back there. He looked like he was ready to hail down some guards with how you were about to flee on your heel,’ you bit back a giggle. ‘No, I never get myself into those situations.’

‘Yeah yeah, alright,’ Eddie nudges you, the weight of the coiled rope helping as you almost collapse into some passers by at a nearby fruit stand.

‘Careful,’ you scold, though your words hold no firmness as you round a corner to a dusty opening. Large buildings tower across a market square, as wooden railings line a side with mangled nooses that sway in the dry breeze. This port had made it clear the moment you set foot on their docks what their opinion on piracy was, and while it wasn’t uncommon to see, it didn’t make it any more comfortable to witness.

You make your way across the clearing, the beating sun above casting everyone sensible into the safety of shade as the dust kicks up around your boots. Eddie shifts the rope on his shoulder for a moment, the movement catching the attention of a glimpse of blue in the corner. You feel their eyes on you first before you hear them, the metal clanking of their belts and poles.

‘Banners?’ Eddie asked nervously, neither of you daring to change direction or pace as you continued towards the dock. You didn’t need to look back to confirm.

‘Banners.’

‘You there!’ The guard yells out, his boots crunching into the gravel quicker behind you as you tried to keep your distance. ‘Halt!’

‘Is he talking to us?’ Eddie hissed under his breath, the opening of an alleyway appearing on your right as you chance a glance over your shoulder. You were the only two people in the square. There was no doubt he was talking to you.

‘This way,’ you whisper quickly, yanking him to your right as you slip into the shadows and away from the square.

‘Hey!’ The guards voice travelled as you heard his footsteps quicken. ‘Stop!’

‘Shit,’ you heave, running down the thinning alley with Eddie in tow as you meet a fork in the path. ‘Split up, I’ll meet you at the ship,’ you pant out before speeding down the path on the right as Eddie wordlessly takes the other.

A shrill whistle pierces the air then, a cacophony of boots thumping in congregation. You were still hidden by the shaded alleys for now, dipping and darting between buildings, the sunlight growing thinner and thinner the deeper back into the town you trailed. 

Unified footfalls echo around next, flashes of blue appearing at ends of alleys you turn and avoid. Before long you’re completely turned around, the tall buildings practically obscuring the cloudless blue above as you stumble out of an alleyway and back into the markets.

‘Seize that girl!’ A guard yells beside a neighbouring stall, the townspeople struggling to shuffle out of the way as you weave in and between them. Your thighs ache, lungs burn, but nothing hurts more than knowing the Naval Guard want you.

Out of everyone on this dry and dirty island, blue banners are hurtling themselves towards you with keen focus that would almost be admirable, if it weren’t so terrifying.

You’d taken on hired guards before, a few at most with the support of your crew but here you were alone. Alone but swarmed by unknown people on unfamiliar land, and they’re gaining on you.

You spew out apologies as you knock a basket from a woman’s arms, fighting the urge to help her before you push on, blues and dust and sunlight blurring in and out of your vision.

With a final pant you push out of the crowd, breaching back into the square before your heart stutters and drops into your stomach. A sea of silver and sapphire spread before you, an impenetrable wall that suddenly surrounds you as your chasers circle up behind.

You are surrounded, lone and singled out as nothing but the dust from the ground and gleam from their armour encompasses you. Gravel crunches under your tight boots as you shift your weight, hopeful for a crack in this iron ring that you know deep down won’t appear.

For a town that despises pirates, it feels almost fitting that this is where you’re caught out. Not from sword fights or bloody fists, but from trading in a market.

‘Lady Margaret, you are to come with us,’ a tall man speaks, his features unschooled as he steps forward.

Margaret? Only your crew knew that to be your name, and only because of the ordeal with your father. 

Your father… had he survived, returned to shore and sought out his vengeance? 

Large hands reach for your wrists, your arms instinctively recoiling to dodge their hold as they huff in front of you, clipping on the cuffs regardless.

‘This would be a lot easier if you just came with us,’ they tried to reason, the unusual ounce of conversation baffling you for a beat. 

‘And why would I do that?’ You protested through dry, chapped lips.

‘We’re not supposed to speak to her until he does,’ a gruff man calls out from your side, his broad frame growing closer as he steps towards you two, the other guard glancing his way.

‘I know, but she’s just a girl. Perhaps it would be easier-‘

‘No,’ he interrupts with a gruff groan, his fist colliding with your temple before you collapse to the ground in a heap, unconscious and unaware as they glare at the crumpled body at their feet.

‘He said to not harm her!’ The first guard speaks, the circle shrinking as they close in on the commotion.

‘And I told you not to talk to her,’ he spat, eyeing up the guards before he straightened up. 

‘Take her to the cells,’ he orders, a flurry of movement as you’re hoisted from the floor. ‘Once he knows she’s here, he’ll come.’

Chapter Text

The barred window in your cell sits high up the cobbled wall, taller than you and hiding everything that sits outside it. All you can see is a teasingly bare sky; the only indicator that you’ve been sat in here for days. The dark, damp floor provides little comfort as you slump atop it, staring at the steel bowls that slip under your door whenever the shadows in the room shift. Cold cuffs cinch your wrists in front of you, and are tethered to a hefty chain that runs down the wall you lean against.

From your cell you can hear the cries of gulls, of merchants, ship horns - you’re clearly close to the port, but it pains you that you have no way of contacting your crew.

Yet in a sense you’re also glad. As the saying goes - every man for himself. You only hope that your crew had managed to flee the town and escape in time themselves.

The isolation of the cell did little to dim the noise in your mind. The questions. The answers. The acceptance.

If this is where the story of Mae finishes, then so be it. You made it a good one.

A new sound rings out by the door. Where you would expect the usual screeching slide of a bowl, now you hear the rusty clicking of the door unlocking. 

You push yourself to your feet as the door swings open, readying your exhausted figure as you straighten your neck, shake out the kinked cuffs and prepare to show these guards that you’re ready. That you don’t fear them. Or death. Or…

Steve steps through the door.

Steve who is clad in blindingly clean royal silks as his untamed hair flops about grime-free. 

Steve who’s eyes widen like saucers as they land on you, his feet striding towards you as his spotless hands reach out.

Steve who left you. Steve who’s engaged to someone else. Steve who looks confusingly concerned for you in this moment.

‘Oh gods are you alright?’ He says in a rushed voice, quick and thick as he finally nears.

‘Am I alright?’ You repeat, bewildered by his sentiment as your cold tone does little to deter his advances. He palms your grubby cheeks, a previously sweet action that now has you flinching from his touch.

‘Yes, are you hurt?’ He presses, eyeing the fading yellow bruise at the edge of your hairline, wildly focused on your well being as words fall from him with less conviction. ‘Are you.. are you…’

‘Am I alright?!’ You yell now, Steve taken aback.

‘Why are you yelling?’ He asks, genuinely baffled at your reaction. In those few seconds of being in your presence he had sorely misread you. 

Those flinches? He must have touched a sore bruise. Are you squinting? You must be adjusting to the light now streaming through the open door. Red cheeks? You must be so pleased to see him.

‘I don’t know Steven,’ you seethe, his name dripping from you with animosity, ‘maybe it’s because I’ve been in jail for gods knows how long, and you’re acting like this is completely normal!’

Steve sighed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes before he took in a deep breath. ‘Look I know this isn’t the most conventional way of tracking you down-‘

‘You hired the Naval guards?’ You spit, hostility and disbelief coating your tongue.

‘Well you weren’t exactly answering my messages,’ Steve replied instantly, almost flippantly even.

‘What messages?’

‘The announcement, in Tortgua? The newspapers, the speakers in towns?’ He explains, his hands taken the familiar stance on his hips as he sighs exasperated. ‘You know it’s not like I could use the royal postal service and just send you a letter when you’re constantly sailing off to gods knows where.’

‘Oh! Oh the announcement in Tortgua,’ your voice pitches in mock amusement, Steve’s brows furrowing at your sudden excessive enthusiasm. ‘Oh you mean where I had to hear in public that you were engaged to be married, barely weeks after you left my ship? Left me?’

‘What?’

‘And the speakers?’ You continue, voice dripping with fake sincerity as you force a bared smile to accompany it all. ‘Oh those speakers were so kind to let me know that you were actively planning a wedding and how excited the King and Queen were for you to be wed.’

‘Mae,’ Steve can’t hide his confusion, ‘no-‘

‘No? I mean you clearly wanted me to hear about you moving on,’ you spew with intense sarcasm, a narrative you’d been forced to ingest suddenly crawling its way back up your throat with a vengeance, ‘and not just finding someone else, but seeking marriage with them too. Congratulations.’

‘I was proposing- am,’ Steve splutters, ‘I-I am proposing.’

‘To who?’ You squeak.

‘You! You stubborn-‘

‘Wow, stubborn okay,’ you chuckle dryly, ‘just what every girl wants to be called during a proposal.’

Steve scoffs, his infuriation edging through. ‘So you acknowledge that I’m proposing to you then-’

‘-In what world would I consider any of what you’ve done as contributing to a proposal?’ You rasp out.

‘Will you stop interrupting me?’ Steve groans.

‘Why should I, your highness?’ You hiss, venom coursing through you now as you stare him down with wildfire in your glare. ‘It’s the only arsenal I currently hold while I’m locked up and removed from my crew.’

‘Your crew is unharmed,’ he says plainly, latching onto the only fact he knows will calm you in this moment. It works for a beat, your features draining of the rage that was building behind them, and at your silence he continues.

‘Look, clearly publicity warps whatever Royals send out, that’s evident now because the messages that I had been sending to speakers, they should have been hailing you down and calling you out,’ he explains slowly, watching as your face twists in understanding. ‘That Prince Harrington had found his beloved, and wished to marry her as soon as she docks. I even requested that they say “what is mine is yours”, you know, so you knew it was for you?’

He stares at you expectantly, as if he were anticipating a sudden wave of acknowledgment to flood through you, followed by acceptance, then adoration.

‘Could you have made that any more cryptic?’ You say instead.

‘Sorry?’ He croaks, not expecting you to still gloss over his declaration.

‘Obviously none of that shit made it into public notice,’ you sneer, pacing the floor now as your chains clink around your wrists and feet. ‘All anyone has been yelling about, is how you’re engaged-‘

‘Hope to be engaged,’ he interjects.

‘-And planning a wedding-‘

‘Intending on a wedding.’

‘-and that your family is very excited to meet them,’ you remark.

‘See them, again. See you,’ he marvels, stepping into your path to hold your gaze as he stares at you with nothing but infatuation. ‘My mother loves you, my father, the ladies. They are all so excited for us to be wed.’

‘You’re talking as if it’s all set in stone,’ your brows furrow together, wrinkling in a way that Steve refuses to accept as disapproval.

‘You…’ he pauses, swallowing thickly as if this was a response he hadn’t predicted. ‘You don’t want to marry me?’

‘Considering you’re actually proposing to me while I’m locked up in chains,’ you reply monotonously, ‘forgive me for being a little sceptical.’

His eyes widen as if he’s only just noticing your predicament, appalled at himself for not rectifying it sooner.

‘Unlock her,’ he demands, a guard hovering out in the hall stepping through and slipping a key into your cuffs wordlessly. They drop to the floor with a clang, the guard leaving silently as you now cradle your sore wrists. The skin had started to redden from the rubbing, and it stings against the cool air now kissing it.

‘This isn’t how I wanted this to go,’ Steve is quiet, sounding remorseful if anything.

‘Enlighten me.’ The only two words you can think of that were succinct enough without constituting as swearing.

‘You were right,’ he starts. ‘I did want to see my family. I had missed them, and after everything we had been through- you had been through with your father I…’ he inhales sharply. ‘I guess I just didn’t want to burden you with that truth. So when I saw on the charts we were close to old family ties, I guess I just needed to test myself, and I failed. And I was so mad at myself for forcing you to make that decision.’

You huffed, a deriding sound that forces him to correct himself.

‘I mean, I was mad you kicked me off first, and then mad at myself but after you left and my mother could see how… how broken I was, I…’ another pause. Another breathe. 

‘I couldn’t find you at first. We… we chartered this boat but it wasn’t fast enough.’

‘We?’ You ask.

‘And we only instructed the help from the Naval guards when there was no other choice,’ he practically pleads. ‘When I heard that they’d found you I couldn’t get here quick enough, honestly, you should have seen the speed at which I made the crew go at.’

‘Stop,’ you whisper.

‘Just so I could get back to you,’ he steps closer and you flinch again, only this time he recognises it.

‘Don’t you mean get me back?’ You sneer, momentarily wincing at a sore spot on your wrist that now steals your attention.

‘Pardon?’ Steve says, equally muted.

‘Do you have any idea of the stress you’ve caused?’ You mutter, rubbing a brewing blister as you listen to more apologies spew from the royals mouth.

‘I am truly sorry. I only did what I thought necessary to-‘

‘I’m not finished speaking,’ you lift your gaze, sweeping it over him for a clarifying moment before you rest on his eyes. Those eyes that walked in here so full with hope, the spark of it all now draining and slipping from him with every sentence you speak. 

‘You chose your family over me. You paid, what I’m assuming was a stupid amount of gold, to have speakers preach an obscure proposal in hopes of luring me to you. And when that doesn’t work, you order the Naval guards to hunt me down.’

‘I didn’t order them to hunt you down,’ he argues, unaware of his actions.

‘No but that’s just how they’re programmed Steve,’ you spit his name through a grimace, ‘you saw exactly how they treat pirates when my father hired them. How you could possibly believe that using them for your own advantage would make them any different, or-or pose them as kinder… it’s- it’s shocking how little you learnt from your time with us.’

‘Mae,’ he begs, a sound you used to find pretty under different circumstances. Now it makes your skin crawl. ‘I am so-‘

‘I want to see my crew,’ you state simply, adjusting your stance so you’re facing the wall with your neck tilted up to the window.

‘I’ll take you,’ he agrees with a sigh. ‘Straight away. I just need to know-‘

‘Need to know what?’ You cast over your shoulder, refusing to meet his stare.

‘Will you marry me?’

You scoff, audibly and visibly disgusted at the notion, Steve’s heart cracking in his chest all over again. In hindsight he can see how this could be perceived as rushed. His voice is taut, you’re surrounded by damp, and by all means things are moving fast but he’d seen cousins engaged and married to others within nights of knowing each other.

And for all intents and purposes he has been proposing to you, over and over through town criers and public speakers. 

For Steve this was the umpteenth time of proposing, but in reality it was your first; and it was poorly done.

‘I wish to see my crew first, if you please,’ you muster as pleasantly as you can as you shift your weight between your legs, his slipper slapping the cold floor as he attempts another step closer.

‘Mae-‘

‘My crew, now!’ You shout, a deep authority in your tone that rattles Steve’s spine.

‘Okay,’ he concedes, swallowing the sourness on his tongue as he steps towards the ajar door and out into the brightening corridor, leading you openly to your docked ship as you follow him wordlessly.

The joy that would have swarmed you a month ago had Steve offered marriage then, is swaddled only by the understanding of what Steve has committed.

A betrayal that bites deeper than the scorn of rejection or acceptance of grief. Steve had sold your secrets in favour of him finding you - sold them to the fucking Naval guards you had done nothing but complain and warn Steve about.

About their ruthlessness, their unwillingness to co-operate, their emotional capacity of a ladle.

Those same Naval guards that now know your true name, know your routes, your crew, your ship and your trade.

Steve had ruined what you had built, and as your sails come into view you swallow the lump in your throat as you see the beaming faces of your family peering over the side at you.

Their grins falter as they take in the Royal suit leading you their way, a stark comparison to the beaten up composure of yourself. Eddie’s first to barrel down the gangway, racing down the board walk as Pete and Dickie hobble up behind, Steve stepping to the side for you to break forward.

‘Ed’s,’ you sob softly into his shoulder as he catches you in his arms, his hands cradling your head as he stares at Steve shuffling at the edge.

‘Are you alright?’ He palms your face now, an affectionate gesture you allow by these hands as he instantly notices the now greenish mark on your forehead that pales in the sunlight. You nod, refusing to acknowledge the person behind you despite your crew now edging closer to him with hopeful steps.

You stick your hand out once they reach you, halting them from passing as Steve straightens in his spot, half expecting a reunion that’s been swiftly cut short.

‘It’s Steve!’ Benji yells, barrelling down the walkway to join his crew before Pete catches him with a grubby palm, noticing your stricken features and red raw wrists.

‘Wait a sec boy,’ he mumbles as you clear your throat and wipe a cheek.

‘Steve has compromised us,’ you call out, daze dusting your crew’s faces before their gazes too latch onto your arms.

‘What happen’ to your ‘ands?’ Dickie asks unsure, eliciting a sniff from you as you cradle them by your chest.

‘The Naval Guard have held me captive, and it was under the orders of Prince Steve.’

Shock sweeps over them, eyes darting between you and your wrists, Eddie, then Steve who stands awkwardly behind you.

‘No that’s not quite true,’ the prince protests, your weight shifting as you turn on your heel to stare him down. 

‘Did you or did you not pay coin to the Guard to find me?’ You question, your back now shielding your crew as you fully face him. 

‘I did,’ Steve accepts, watching as your crew shuffle behind you, swarming you like wings as confusion crinkles their brows. 

‘And so it is from your gold that I have been held hostage and apart from my family,’ you push.

‘I only asked that they find you,’ he pleads, voice falling with every attempt to reason. 

‘-and then hold me against my will until you had managed to catch up,’ you finish firmly, the boardwalk creaking as footsteps shift in surprise.

‘Steve?’ Benji’s quiet voice rings out in disbelief.

Awash with sudden guilt Steve is speechless, as if this open dissection in front of an audience he once called brothers has stunned him back into reality.

He had royally cocked this up, and as you avoid his stare he sees his tether fraying.

‘We must leave,’ you look at Eddie, his gaze reading for a hundred unanswered questions on your face as he tilts his head down.  

‘Are you sure?’ He asks.

‘Without a doubt,’ you say emotionless, striding past your crew and towards your ship without looking back.

‘No Mae, wait!’ Steve stirs to life, fearing he’s witnessing what he dreads most - losing you to the sea once more, but Pete blocks his path before he can near the ramp you’re scaling, his gruff voice short as he grumbles out, ‘I think you’ve done ‘nough boy.’

Steve balks, terror tripping his tongue as your figure passes the ships railings.

‘At least tell them why I did it!’ He shouts up at you.

You pause, pursing your lips as you turn at his statement. You perch at the edge of your ship walls now, fingertips barely dusting the wood as the sails flap behind you as a washed out backdrop.

‘Steve had a fantasy I wasn’t willing to accept,’ your clipped words slice the air and cut Steve’s chest open.

‘You never said no,’ he tries now, pushing past Pete’s loose hold as your crew dot along the jetty, plank and deck in attentive formation. ‘You asked me to take you to your crew and I did, so now what?’

‘Now what?’ You gasp, the ill fitting sound a mixture of a scoff and laughter as your crew seem completely out of place. ‘Now Steve, you leave me alone so I can get on with creating a new life for myself. One you not know about so you can’t ruin that too.’

‘So you won’t marry me?’ he cries out earnestly, a low whistle traversing over the deck and your crew as understanding washes through.

‘I thought he were ‘ngaged already?’ Dickie mumbles before Pete hushes him, intrigued now by the display before them.

‘Mae?’ Your name is soft from Eddie’s lips, enticing, encouraging, and you cast him a look for an interim pause, promising you’ll answer him as soon as you’re safe. And alone.

‘Make to set sail,’ you call out instead, catching the bewildered looks of your family as they glance up at you. There’s no movement, only a shudder through them as if they’re double checking your order.

Mentally you promise all would be explained to your crew in due time, but only once distance has been created between you and the man on the jetty who roiled your rationale. With a calmer voice, you muster a look to Pete, narrowly missing the prince hovering nearby.

‘Pete?’ You summon, his brows bouncing in recognition as he starts to hobble up the ramp.

‘C’mon boys,’ he instructs, the crew silently following him to deck as Steve remains glued to the rickety planks below the ships hull.

‘Mae?’ He calls out, desperately clinging to anything to stop you from walking away. 

He could see it all now, see how easily you could slip off the horizon and disappear from his life forever. Steve steps towards the ramp as Eddie’s hauling it back on board, a muted exchange shared between them as Eddie straightens up.

‘I’m sorry man,’ he sighs, the words reaching Steve and piercing his heart open as he registers how truly lost he was. How left behind he was about to be.

You don’t scald or call out the apology. You know the feelings your crew still held for Steve - that much was evident when they all came running at the sight of him, but you were there first and you were their captain.

You’d always be their captain, and they followed your word like lore.

Ropes rustle free from the rungs they’d been looped over, and as the strands slap the water in release, Steve’s knees almost buckle as the belly of the ship starts to glide away.

‘Mae, stop!’ He yells, his words quieter now, the roar of the ocean drowning him out in every manner as you walk to your cabin and away from the sight of a bay that had captured, terrorised and devoured you.

‘MAE!’ 

Steve is left calling out your name until the the ship curves around the port and out of view.

Chapter Text

Indecision eats away at you as the boat bobs behind the coastline, anchored just out of view from the bay. The ocean wind had tugged you quickly from port, yet only after retreating into your cabin and dealing with a heavily questioning Eddie did you register why your gut was churning so.

While every part of your pirate rationale was screaming at you to forget the prince, a part of you still clung to the fact that you still had not yet said no. Internally or out loud.

It took a barely-there nod from yourself for Eddie to hail the crew on your behalf, to cast anchor as soon as the bustling bay had been obscured by the hilly outskirts of the island. And yet deep within, you couldn’t fathom why you still felt tethered to a man who seemingly never understood you. That invisible thread now taut.

The door creaks shut as Eddie lets himself into the room, settling into the velvet armchair he commandeers regularly as you perch on another near the balcony, the cabin’s desk askew at your side as you glance out to sea through your open doors.

‘So Steve proposed,’ Eddie probes, a dry scoff coming from you as if you had just remembered the absurdity of it all.

‘He proposed,’ you echo.

‘And I take it we didn’t accept?’ because at this point Steve knew you and Eddie were a package deal.

‘No we didn’t accept Eddie,’ you look at him now, annoyance written all over your face. ‘It’s marriage. A wedding, a husband-‘

‘I know what marriage is Mae,’ Eddie tries to reason.

‘And so does Steve!’ you exclaim. ‘And still, after everything that I had told him I had escaped or tried to leave behind, he thinks I’ll just fall into a marriage with him?’

You cross your arms over your chest, sinking further into the chair with a shake of your head, utterly baffled by the logic.

‘I think if someone wants to marry another, that’s all they really think about,’ Eddie shrugs casually, earning a sharp look from you and another huff.

‘I can’t believe you’re defending him,’ you say, almost petulantly.

‘No I’m just saying think about it…’ he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, holding your gaze as your brow crinkles, ‘have you ever thought about what it would be like to get married? To have someone for the rest of your life, someone you truly love and who is wholly a part of you?’

In truth there was a time you had fantasised about getting married. You’d envisioned a white sandy beach, with frothy waves lapping at your ankles as luscious palm trees draped overhead. Pete would be standing in the ocean, beaming at you with a proud smile as Eddie would sway opposite you, his large hands cradling yours as your cheeks would burn with affection.

Fantasised being the optimum word really. A daydream that dulled out the moment you grew up and realised pirates didn’t have to live by societal norms. That pirates could be together, forever, and no marriage certificate would deem it legally acceptable or not.

‘You make it sound like you’ve thought about it,’ you comment, eyeing how Eddie doesn’t miss a beat as he responds.

‘Perhaps,’ the word so quick it barely takes any thought to register. ‘And a ring doesn’t mean you’re tied to someone. The marriage is just a…. a symbol.’

Your gaze drops to your bare knuckles as you inhale sharply. ‘There wasn’t even a ring.’

‘He didn’t get you a ring?’ Eddie almost squeaks, brows shooting up into his hairline in shock. 

‘No,’ you shake your head, sinking further into your chair with a slump. ‘Apparently Steve thought his wedding announcements were succinct enough to count as proposals.’

‘Hold up, I’m confused,’ Eddie rocks his head, leaning even further onto his knees as if gravity could help him understand the situation. ‘You mean he didn’t propose to you in the cell?’

‘Well yes,’ you squint, ‘but it felt like it was more an afterthought.’

Eddie sighs, readying his next question before you continue. ‘You know those wedding updates we’ve been hearing from speakers in each town?’

He nods.

‘That was Steve proposing,’ your voice drips with sarcasm, tongue heavy with the weight of an absurd declaration you had been forced to experience.

Eddie’s face squirms into itself. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, apparently he had the brilliant idea to send notice to all kingdom speakers, and have it publicly explained to all his intention to marry,’ you inhale sharply, catching your breath from the tsunami of words that spill from you. ‘But evidently it was censored and obscured, and what we had been hearing was a completely different message than the one he’d been trying to send out.’

Eddie smacks his lips, tasting the ambiguity of the air as Steve’s preposterous proposal settles.

‘So when they’ve been saying he’s getting married soon?’ He asks plainly, fingers tapping together in thought.

‘That was him saying he wanted to marry me,’ your weight shuffles atop the crushed velvet cushion as you try to find some comfort in the scenario.

‘And that it’ll happen within the month?’ He quotes the criers.

‘Basically the next time I dock at land.’ There’s no joy, or creeping glee behind your words, and Eddie’s reaction next simply fuels your irritation.

He whistles, low and humorous as a smile creeps over his face. ‘Well I wasn’t aware this was moving so quickly for you.’

‘Eddie stop, it’s not funny,’ you fight the chuckle that he almost tugs free before swallowing thickly. ‘I mean, his whole reasoning behind this stupid idea was because we were at sea and he couldn’t exactly send me a letter.’

‘Or know where you’d stop to find you.’

‘Exactly.’

‘So when you said that he had compromised us..?’ Eddie asks open-ended, tilting on the edge of his seat as his heels rock him back and forth.

You sigh, long and heavy before pinning your friend with a look. ‘There was that speaker in Tortuga.’

‘There’s usually a speaker in Tortuga,’ he counters.

‘No, but when you send messages from a palace you pay by coin the islands you wish for them to speak at,’ you explain, the memory of accompanying the Queen as she passed notice to her footman with a pouch of gold and a list of places washing over you.

‘So Steve told someone the location of Tortuga,’ Eddie deduced, his eyes dropping to the floor in thought as his fingers arched up to dig into his chin.

‘Not just someone- a palace!’ You hiss. ‘The Royal Concierge of speakers.’

‘Is there any chance that Steve didn’t pay for a Tortuga notice, and instead that speaker got some kind of… of hand me down notice from another island?’ Eddie’s eyes lift back up to you, snagging on your sharpening gaze as your annoyance begins to be doused away with reason.

‘What?’ You spit, Eddie straightening up from his knees.

‘Well if it was so wrong, and that was the first time we’d heard it, isn’t there the chance that the speaker wasn’t given the full message, and that’s why we heard only… only half of it?’

‘I mean… perhaps,’ you say quietly, burrowing the embers of your now dampening anger.

‘But he also hired the Guard Eddie. And told them our secrets, our trade, how we dressed and what our ship looked like- all in hopes to find me. He sold us out!’ You huff, specks of hurt clinging to your words. ‘And you would think that after everything we went through while we were under my father’s command he would have understood how brash they could be.’

‘Well a man in love does desperate things,’ he says as he lugs himself to his feet, his gravelly tone holding far too much sincerity to the statement to be disingenuous.

‘Eddie I’m serious,’ you watch as he paces the floor, as if the circles in conversation must be treaded into the damask rug beneath your boots.

‘I know, I’m sorry, just… just think about it right?’ He turns on his heel as he retraces his steps back towards you. ‘He spends what, a year with you? And he falls in love, but then he’s suddenly made to pick between his family and his love.’

‘You make me sound like a monster when you phrase it like that,’ sourness creeping between your teeth as you suck your lips.

‘Which was a very valid point to make on your part,’ Eddie sanctions, ‘but you’ve never had that type of close relationship with a family.’

His fleeting glance and solid reasoning suddenly makes you feel small. ‘Right.’

‘It would be like making you choose between him and me.’

You inhale sharply in recognition, a small gasp like sound because he’s right. Eddie was your family, your crew were your family, and you would always choose them over anyone not part of that. Someone royal. Steve.

‘I would pick you in a heartbeat,’ you declare without hesitation.

‘Exactly sweetheart, and that’s my point.’ He rounds closer to you, perching atop the askew desk at your side, as his face crinkles with empathy. ‘It sounds like Steve was desperate and did the only thing he could think of.’

The final flickers of fury flutter about inside of you, refusing to be extinguished. ‘You mean selling us out to the highest bidder?’

‘Doing something rash but effective.’

You pause, the dimpling dent in your seat suddenly uncomfortable and probing. You had not anticipated that Eddie would have a reason for every rhyme, and as if he too can discern your surprise, he clicks his tongue and shifts his weight.

‘Look clearly we all weren’t cut from the same cloth, nor was he born from salt but neither were we. And clearly I have a thing for befriending those of higher status, and so I arguably have a soft spot for the both of you, but-‘

‘But if he’s wanting to rejoin us he can’t be a royal,’ you interrupt, catching his trail of thought before it takes full flight. His giddiness is almost palpable as his eyes widen.

‘Does that mean you’re thinking about it?’

The fire has dimmed now. Smokey thoughts and smouldering decisions filtering away, but the heat still remains. 

‘I’m serious Ed,’ you hold his stare. ‘His family is everything we escape.’

‘But not his family though. Just royals and towns who despise pirates,’ he argues, long arms crossing over his chest as he tilts his head down your way. ‘Do I have to remind you that it was actually his parents who saved our necks because of their weird fascination with pirates?’

He talks in a timbre as if he finds the entire thing mildly amusing - a story or tail to regale at any moment, as if it were some fantastical fate that allowed you both to be captured by such a wonderfully curious sovereignty.

‘But doesn’t that worry you?’ You push back. ‘Clearly we must be some part of a-a genetic hyper-fixation which strangely revolves around us.’

‘Why would that worry me?’ Eddie bites out a chuckle.

‘Because,’ you stress, ‘they kept us because of it. As if we were… trophies or something to that effect.’

A breath pushes past Eddie’s lips as he levels you with a look. ‘I can’t speak for how you were treated in that palace but all I can say, is that we were well looked after, and that the prince was smitten with you. Could see it plain as day all over his face the first time I saw you two together.’

His soft eyes hooked on you under the milky candlelight, hair wrinkled from ocean water as his unmarred fingertips brushed your smooth knuckles gingerly.

‘And I don’t think he’d force you to do anything you don’t want to,’ Eddie finishes, voice a little quieter, a little more reserved as if the memory has tarnished him.

‘He tried to marry me Ed,’ you correct him, remind him. ‘He hired Naval Guards to catch me so that we could be wed.’

‘When you put it like that, yes, he’s a little unorthodox and-‘

‘Inept?’

‘Yes,’ he chuckles. ‘But that’s just Steve. He’s always been a bit like that. Strong hearted but a dim planner and I think that you’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t truly thought about what it would be like to marry him.’

You pause then, drinking in the irony of how desperately close you were coming to folding to a man of title. 

‘But he’s a prince Eddie,’ you reiterate. ‘I don’t want to be a royal. I’m a captain. A pirate. I’m-‘

‘You’re Mae. And he’s Steve,’ Eddie interjects, his placid face half giving away that the argument was starting to run its course. ‘You don’t have to marry Prince Steve. Titles don’t mean everything. You were a princess too once if you recall.’

‘And you won’t let me forget it,’ you grumble.

‘Point is, people can change. He doesn’t have to be Prince Steve forever,’ Eddie offers, calm and confident with a non-committal one shoulder shrug. ‘He could be just Steve.’

‘But do you think he would give it all up?’ you ponder. ‘I mean, he did run back to be a royal.’

‘No, he ran back to his parents. His family,’ Eddie interjects. ‘Just like how you’d always run back to your family- to me, to us.’

The notion is almost suffocating for a moment, so much so that you stop questioning the whats, and start contemplating the whys.

‘He’s just so suited to being a royal,’ you mumble under your breath, and Eddie’s palms slapping his thighs reel you back to the room.

‘Oh c’mon Mae,’ he groans, as if surprised he’s still trying to convince you. ‘The man left land for you. Sailed across oceans. Weathered storms and salt water and food rations and you still think he wants to be a prince?’

‘You didn’t see him at that palace Eddie,’ you murmur, the waiver of uncertainty that you had been shoving down slowly wobbling through.

‘Perhaps not,’ he says easily, the white lie rolling off his tongue, ‘but I saw him on the boat. He uprooted everything he knew to be with you.’

‘When you put it like that…’ you muse. ‘But who’s to say he’ll even renounce his title?’

‘Well… you once did,’ Eddie quips through a tight lipped smirk.

‘While I was in hiding and because I didn’t want it,’ you’re swift to retaliate. ‘Pretty sure Steve wants his.’

‘How do you know that?’ Eddie jabs, his advocacy for the other perspective annoyingly persistent. ‘Have you asked him?’

‘Well I didn’t exactly have the chance to discuss those intricacies when I was chained up and chewing him out.’ 

Eddie laughs. ‘Then how about not chewing him out, and actually asking him?’

The boat rocks with a choppy wave, creaks stretching along the hull as they tickle the silence with their song.

‘Do I even want to get married?’ You ask aloud, throwing the question into the universe, but your eyes remain pinned on Eddie. As if this decision requires the input from your best friend.

You watch as his eyes crinkle at the edges, as if he’s edging the amusement away, schooling his expression into one of little influence.

‘I can’t answer that for you.’

‘What if I do marry him as Steve but then he runs back to being a prince?’ You try instead, squirming in your seat to swivel yourself to face Eddie fully, his eyes heavy on you. ‘What if I marry Steve and then he hauls me back to a palace? What if I don’t marry Steve and then he still decides to run back to being a royal?’

‘What if you don’t marry Steve, and then that haunts you for the rest of your life?’ Eddie offers, cutting off your sharp inhale with a calm tone that melts away your concerns, piece by piece. ‘You don’t need to have a royal wedding, hell if you want a wedding I’m sure Pete and I can whip up something.’

‘Do I even want a wedding?’ Eddie notices how you shrink into yourself, and he pushes away from the desk with one strong shunt.

‘Again, darling,’ he crouches in front of you, warm palms on your knees as he looks up at you through his thick lashes. ‘I can’t answer for you. All I can say is that Steve clearly wants you. And he would be a fool to let you go.’

Your cheeks pinken under the scrutiny, and if possible your uncertain voice drops even lower with a giggle. ‘I kind of feel like I’m already married.’

‘To Steve?’ Eddie smiles, a laugh creeping on to his tongue.

‘No to… to you and the ship and the crew,’ you gesture around you, fiddling your fingers amongst his in your lap.

‘Well there’s no need to make it sound so scandalous,’ Eddie chuckles, ‘but I don’t think marrying Steve means you’ll have to divorce the rest of us.’

‘Wouldn’t plan on it,’ you say with a conviction long lacking since Steve stepped off your boat.

Chapter Text

Locating Steve was easy in concept when his royal family name hung in the air like smoke, wafting behind him as a guiding trail. By the time Eddie had convinced you with enough courage to sail back to port, it didn’t take long to understand that Steve had departed a day before, his name travelling back across the seas to the ally kingdom where all off this mess first started.

When you reached the old island, the Harrington name guided you up a shallow hill that the villagers spoke of. Surrounded by trees and a winding pale path sat a low expansive villa of lime washed walls and terracotta roofs, its two floors scaling up the edge of a drying jungle as a white stone terrace encircled the building with long balconies, overlooking the bustling bay and shimmering ocean.

Tall ornate doors stood proudly at the end of freshly washed steps, the dust from the earth settling at the borders of greenery that brushed straying ankles, and as you stood outside the dark, weathered doors, you suddenly second guessed whether to knock or not.

Whether this was the right choice. Right decision. Right idea…

Your knuckles were rapping against the wood before you could change your mind, the door peeling open a few moments later.

‘Can I help you?’ A bored looking man with wrinkled olive skin asks as he looks down at you.

‘I’m hoping to speak with Steve, please,’ you explain, correcting yourself a moment later. ‘The Prince… if he’s available?’

‘Wait here,’ they say, closing the door behind them as they turn away.

Why you had thought that Steve would be the one to answer the door was beyond you. He’s probably never had to open a door himself when in a building as fine as this before.

The sun starts to burn its heat into your scalp as you begin to fidget, minutes passing since the door last opened, and as the rush of adrenaline starts to wean, your heels pivot, the open gravelled path beckoning you back to shore and away from this madness.

You don’t hear the door as it squeaks open behind you, the rich birdsong in a nearby tree planting you in place and occupying your attention a moment too long before you hear someone clear their throat, startling you to spin back around as you notice how Steve now fills the open doorframe.

‘Mae…’ he murmurs, breathless as he takes you in. Despite the darkness smudging your under eyes, it’s clear you’ve made an effort before finding him.

Your hair is shiny and brushed, likely washed as he catches a hint of lavender amongst the sea salt, and your corset is neatly knotted with little bows down your back. He doesn’t feel any envy as to whom likely tied them for you, a fondness bubbling just at the sight of you.

You swallow thickly in the weighted silence that follows, rolling your shoulders back before speaking short and quiet. ‘Hi.’

‘What are you doing here?’ Steve asks, shifting his weight between his feet, hope sparking through the soles.

‘I wanted to speak with you,’ you inhale sharply, remembering Eddie’s words. ‘I realise that the last time we met I likely was not the most receptive to the topic you raised-’

Steve’s lips quirk upward, as if all his dreams were coming true. You’d sought him out, and this would be the moment you would accept his proposal. 

‘-and I thought it at least warranted a conversation.’

‘Of course,’ Steve smiles, stepping aside as you walk through the arched door frame and into a long expansive hallway that’s flooded with sunlight and green plants potted throughout. It almost looks like an indoor tropical rainforest.

‘We can uh,’ he brushes down his shirt, glancing down the hall, ‘we can speak in the office if you like?’

You nod meekly, the grand hall suddenly making you feel rather insignificant. You were used to glossy marble tiles and intricate stained glass windows, but for some reason, returning a second time to this lifestyle under the family name of Harrington feels different. This time you are re-attending proudly as a captain, and not with any intention to flounder or fold, or be swept up into the safety of royal promises.

This time you’re alone, braving a household rich with royalty and without Eddie at your side like last time, armed with the knowledge that your crew are safe on your ship and able to sail away at a moments’ notice. The survival of this encounter is not your forethought or focus … despite the country potentially despising pirates.

You doubt this sovereign would be as lenient with you should you flaunt any signs of blatant piracy, so you continue to pad down the hall following the prince, silently ready to reveal your true colours if countered, dagger warm against your thigh.

The princes day slippers slap the tiles as your leather boots click alongside him, the hall winding around a corner before an open door catches you by surprise as a small squeak escapes it.

‘Mother,’ Steve half gasps, surprised by her frame stepping towards the opening as she eyes him.

‘We heard your summon,’ her gaze finally landing on you at his side as she gawks, her grin widening, ‘and now I know why you were in such a hurry to leave us, oh!’

The queen strides towards you, tugging you through the doorway and into the room behind her before enveloping you into a garish hug. 

‘My little merc, it is so good to see you again,’ she beams, whispering tightly into your ear. ‘Thank you for looking after my boy.’

The affection suffocates you almost, and you can do little but nod and try to pry yourself free. Only once she relinquishes you do you notice the peacock green that drenches the walls of the lavish space, and the cream china vases brimming with pink and orange roses that sit in each corner of the room. The air smells sticky from the flowers, and it feels as if you are back walking through those royal gardens, all those many moons ago.

You predict they offer a similar type of melancholia to the queen.

Your gaze darts to the king who has now moved to stand by his wife, and at the side stands three neatly dressed ladies who edge closer.

Fanny practically beams at the sight of you as Bridget’s cheeks glow in affection. Beside them, the unusually soft face of Constance catches you off guard, and you’re even more alarmed when she starts to lead the three closer, her arms outstretching in an unfamiliar hug.

You freeze as she holds you and the queen observes, completely undeterred by the way your spine stiffens as if she’s experiencing nothing but joy as her closest ladies reunite.

‘We were so worried about you,’ Constance coos, a sound that doesn’t sound entirely untrue as you only relax when she pulls back.

‘Sure,’ is all you manage before you’re swallowed by Fanny and Bridget, and you allow yourself to melt into their embrace, a genuine glee warming you inside at their fondness.

Despite how wildly the day was progressing, you could not find the heart to lie to yourself about how much you had truly missed these two as they finally stepped back.

Daunted by the distraction of unexpected company, Steve finally takes the lead as he eyes his parents.

‘Mae and I were just heading to the office,’ he says calmly, and you can practically taste the excitement that passes through the room.

‘To plan the wedding?’ Fanny asks eagerly, her sweet face souring only slightly at your almost immediate response.

‘No, Fanny,’ you try to smile back nicely but the tension is already seeping into the space from your reaction, dulling the delight that had momentarily flashed across everyone’s faces.

‘No?’ The queen asks, the corners of her smile faltering slightly as you purse your lips at her incredulity, steeling yourself as Steve steps in.

‘Mae and I were just going to talk.’ His voice is steady, unwavering yet soft.

‘But we are to plan a wedding?’ His mother presses, and at her question you turn your attention to Steve with a tilt of your head; Steve who has slipped closer and now waits at your elbow.

‘I’m sorry Steven, but what exactly have you told your family?’ You pry, hoping the question remains indifferent to the obvious pressure building in the room, but you can’t help the clipped tone that edges your words. 

‘I informed them that I had found you,’ he explains carefully, his tone equally measured as if he knew he were censuring the wrong things, ‘and that we had spoke.’

You drop your gaze for a heartbeat as you chuff out a dry laugh. ‘We spoke, huh, yes.’

‘And that I had proposed.’

‘Did you tell them my answer?’ You face him fully now, heels spinning on the polished floorboards as you lift your chin to hold his stare.

‘I told them that you were thinking about it,’ Steve responds, turning too as you stare each other down, the room blurring at the edges as the conversation consumes you both.

‘That’s an interesting way of saying no,’ you counter.

‘But you didn’t say no.’

‘I didn’t say yes.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m a little confused,’ the queen interjects, stealing your attention as the bubble bursts, and at the realisation you are being watched, everything suddenly feels far too tight. 

Your chest dries under the attentive heat of everyone staring at you and the same argument that always seeks you out sparks inside you all over again; the same fight that had fuelled most of your childhood as you refused to yield to the heavy expectations of everyone else, while they simply wished to stuff you into a box. 

Their box. Of their rules and regulations, their ethos and edict, their parameters of privilege and presumption and-

‘This is you accepting his proposal, yes?’ She continues, brows raising in hope as the loaded assumption shatters the final tether in you like a popped cork, and you can no longer hold your tongue. 

‘Ma’am I’m sorry, but if your son didn’t tell you everything then there really is no place for me to be here,’ you say bluntly, shying away from Steve as you face the room of confused, concerned faces.

The castle walls inside you solidify in place, and slowly but surely the polite exterior you’d plastered on for pleasantries hardens.

‘Whatever do you mean girl?’ The queen asks, and you inhale sharply before explaining clearly. Concisely. Allowing no room for misunderstanding or misjudgement, because if this family were expecting a wedding, they should also expect the truth.

‘Your son proposed to me while I was in shackles, locked in a cell after being held captive for days by the Naval Guard he hired to track me down.’

‘The Guard are good men,’ the king instantly remarks, and your glare shifts from the queen to him.

‘The Guard are not, sir,’ you state plainly. ‘They are the furthest thing from good, and any person of sane mind who’s ever been at the end of their gaze knows this. Steve knows this.’ You gesture to him in hopes of some mild support, but his glazed silence continues.

‘Did the Guard hurt you son?’ The king questions, shocked at the news as Steve barely shakes his head, his indifference irking you to new levels as his tongue refuses to spill sincerity.

‘It’s not important.’

‘What exactly have you told your parents about the past year?’ You circle back to the prince hovering at your hip, and his expressions remains cool, passive… emotionless.

For a moment you wonder if he is in pain from holding back so much. From refusing to acknowledge the candour of anything involving you, but the empathy soon sinks away when you remember what he had done.

Lied. Betrayed. Kidnapped.

‘That I travelled with you,’ he explains.

You scoff. ‘Anything else?’ And after a moment of hesitation where Steve’s lips part but no excuse slips out, you rally facts to your lips and turn to look at his father.

‘Did he tell you that he was a pirate, fully accepted into a crew of thirty men strong that saw him as a brother?’ You glance towards his mother next. 

‘Did he talk about any of the storms or battles we survived? About an island we were marooned on for best part a week?’ Their silence continues to answer all your fears.

‘Did he tell you anything about the man he’s become while at sea, or did he just make it seem like your merc in a dress was simply looking after him and taking him on a tour of the world before delivering him back home safely?’ Your voice strains against itself by the end, and as if the queen can hear the emotion in your plea, she softens, and takes a step closer.

‘He told me that he had fallen in love.’

Somehow the sentiment doesn’t crack you the way they had intended.

‘Well if that is the case he has a funny way of showing it,’ you deflect.

‘Mae that’s not fair,’ Steve’s voice finally finding him as his fingers brush against your elbow, the touch dragging your focus back on him like a whirlwind.

‘Did you tell them anything about me?’ You push, brows bunching together earnestly as you wordlessly ask him what you’re truly thinking. ‘Anything at all you’ve learnt that you didn’t know in the palace?’

Steve swallows, reading your expression clearly. ‘Not everything.’

‘And you still expect them to welcome me into your family through matrimony?’ You all but whisper in shock.

‘Explain,’ the queen states, her patience wearing thin as she understands the veiled tone in your questions. So you breathe out, facing her a final time before speaking.

‘I am the reason your home is ashes,’ the words taste like chalk on your tongue. ‘Blackbeard attacked your bay in search of a missing princess that was exposed as living on your island.’ Your eyes drift over to Constance’s gaze as they latch onto you for a beat. ‘I am the missing princess.’

‘But you’re a pirate,’ the king queries, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes at how narrow minded he was appearing.

‘I am now, but I was a princess. When I was younger,’ you chance a glance at Steve’s chest as you glimpse his way. ‘And Steve knows this. He found out while on my ship,’ you claim confidently.

‘So Blackbeard attacked our home in search of you,’ the queen repeats, and you can only nod. ‘But who could have known?’

The queen’s tone remains surprisingly calm. No malice, no hatred. Just questions. Actively you avoid Constance’s gaze as you sense movement in the corner of your eye.

‘That I can’t say ma’am.’ A heel click echoes, and you interrupt again before anyone can speak. ‘And in truth, there is no point in pondering it. My past is the reason your kingdom was attacked, and for that I can only offer my sincerest apologies.’

A silence suddenly envelops the room, and before everyone can hear the grating of your heart drumming against your ribs you fill the quiet. ‘And for that reason alone, I know you can’t accept me.’

The silence stretches more; a thunderous quiet that roars in your ears as your feet finally turn to flee. 

‘I truly am sorry,’ you blink fervently as your eyes dart around the room. This was wrong. You should not have come here. These people will never accept you, and you them.

‘This was a mistake,’ you murmur mostly to yourself, although the stillness allows it to carry. ‘Good day.’

And without further delay you race off down the hall, bursting through the large arched front doors you’d passed through barely moments ago, breathing only once the harsh sun is brushing your cheeks.

The dust from the path kicks up with your boots, and you barely make it halfway down the winding route before Steve is chasing you.

‘Mae wait,’ he yells, refusing to slow as he rushes to reach you, hooking his firm fingers around your elbow to ground you in the gravel.

‘Please don’t touch me,’ you pant, ripping your arm from him as he halts, watching you carefully.

‘Okay, okay,’ he utters, palms up in surrender as he waits for you to find your breath.

‘I … I can’t do this,’ you swallow thickly, regaining some life back into your lungs at the pause, but with that comes the barreling thoughts of simply everything else you can’t do.

Marriage. Palace living. Royal decrees. 

And everything you don’t have.

Parents. Family home. Relatives.

Everything Steve has and wants. And as if he can see the war waging across your eyes he gambles a step closer.

‘What did you want to discuss?’

‘What?’ You chest evens slightly at the distraction, and he chances another step.

‘Why you came here,’ he speaks evenly, calmly. ‘What did you want to tell me?’

‘I…’ your voice smooth now as you dig in deep. ‘I had wanted to hear you out.’

‘Is that it?’ Steve asks, his lips all but pouting as he squints under the afternoon sun.

‘Specifically I had intended on discussing what you’d offered when I wasn’t locked up,’ you start, the ridiculousness of all that had happened catching up to you once more, ‘but seeing as your family and staff believe in something entirely different than who I truly am, then I fear that can never be the case.’

You start back down the path, knees bending to compensate for the slope downward as you hear Steve stumble to keep up.

‘Woah just- just stop alright, we can talk.’

‘Why didn’t you tell them?’ You whirl back around, torn between wanting to leave and wanting to confront him of his own stupidity. He almost trips over his slippers as he watches you gleam in the sunlight. ‘You didn’t tell them… anything about me Steve. That I’m the missing princess, or that I’m the reason their home is gone. It doesn’t seem like you even told them anything about our life the past year.’

Our life. The term hummed in his blood.

‘I told them what was important,’ he tries. ‘That I love you, and I want to be with you.’

‘I’m more than just something to be besotted with Steve, I’m a person,’ you stress, debating with taking off down the hill again before yielding. ‘And I’m a fool for thinking you would see me as such.’

‘Mae will you just…’ he lunges for your arm, the pebbles rocking against your heel as you halt. ‘-stop!’

‘Why?’ You breath. ‘So you can- can sweet talk me into falling back in love with you again?’ He’s numb from the accusation as you wave your palm vaguely at the villa on the hill. ‘All of … of this, I cannot be a part of. It’s abundantly clear to me now how impossible that notion is. I can’t marry you if I’m expected to be a part of that.’

A kernel of hope blooms in Steve’s chest, the first real condition for matrimony you’ve offered. He clings to it.

‘Okay.’

‘Okay?!’ You bite down a squeal.

‘Okay. We won’t be a part of this,’ Steve suggests it so easily that for a moment you can’t comprehend what he’s offering.

He doesn’t have to be Prince Steve forever. He could be just Steve.

‘What?’ You pant as Steve simply shrugs.

‘I’ll waive my claim to the throne,’ he states calmly.

‘That’s… that’s stupid, you can’t do that.’ Your face evidently shows your bewilderment, and Steve swallows any traces of humour that threaten to overspill at the sight of how adorable your confusion makes you.

‘I can and I shall,’ he promises, his voice deep and sure like a solid oak. ‘Anything if it means I can be with you.’

‘I-‘

‘What else?’ He presses.

You barely have a chance to rally your opposition. ‘Pardon?’

‘You came here to discuss my proposal,’ he almost smirks, but smothers it with a sniff. ‘What are your other terms?’

‘I didn’t come here to barter,’ you respond, half offended at the accusation.

‘Then what did you come here for?’ Steve steals a step closer, benefiting from your confused gaze as your eyes wander across his face. 

‘To talk.’

‘We are talking.’

‘No, about-‘

‘My proposal?’ Steve smiles.

‘Yes- no!’ You frown.

‘You just followed me across an ocean to talk what, pleasantries?’ He’s fighting back a grin now.

‘Don’t mock me,’ you scold.

‘I’m not, I’m just…’ he sighs, ‘poorly scrambling for ways to break the ice with you.’

‘There’s no need to make me sound like some frigid countess,’ you argue, face scrunching into exasperation before Steve is closing the distance and reaching for you once more.

‘Mae will you just breathe a minute, alright?’ He chuckles, large palms smoothly holding yours as everything suddenly calms… the familiar touch soothing you within a heartbeat. Perhaps you don’t realise how much you had missed his touch until it’s all you can focus on, your lungs finally taking that full breath you have been unknowingly chasing since he left.

He takes full advantage of your stunned silence and revels in the allowance of touching you again, even if it’s just the clean, soft grooves of your fingers as he drinks you in. Once the red lessens across your collarbones he tries again. Smoother now. His voice calm, silky and enticing.

‘I love you,’ he breathes his every emotion into those three words, and he swears he sees you melt at the admission like you did the first time he said it. ‘And I want to be with you. Will you marry me?’

‘I’ve just dropped a bomb on the royal image your family had set up for their son’s betrothed, and you’re still pursuing this?’ You say slowly, as if truly checking his mental faculties as he stares you down.

Of course I’m still pursuing you, Steve thinks. ‘You’re deflecting,’ he says instead.

‘And you’re incorrigible,’ you sigh.

‘Do you want to be with me?’

‘That’s a loaded question that surely you should know the answer to by now.’

‘Well do you love me?’ Steve pleads, a note of desperation as if he truly did need to hear those words now.

‘Of course I love you, I…’ you breathe out before you register it’s left you; love, not loved. Present tense. The words hanging in the air like mistletoe, and you lessen the grip your fingers had tightened around his own as you tug them down to your sides. ‘You know I’m still yet to see an engagement ring.’

You mean it as a joke, a taunt, and Steve can taste the deflecting vulnerability hidden behind the words.

‘Does that mean if I proposed to you with a ring you’ll say yes?’ Steve asks, full of hope and amusement as his now free hands toy with his trousers pockets.

‘No it means that even pirates like to look at shiny things you moron.’

‘Well is this shiny enough?’ He says, a polished silver band with a twinkling diamond on top glitters between you, the ring pinched between his fingers and singing in the sunlight.

‘Steve,’ his name resonates like a prayer as it slips past your lips, and he all but melts at the sound. It’s the only thing you’ve said, and you can barely tear your eyes off the stupid thing.

‘I know that I’ve done this wrong,’ Steve breathes, filling the silence. ‘I know that I have been irreparably stupid in how I got us to here, and all I hope is that you allow me the rest of my life to make it up to you.’

The stone alone could feed a village, and the band is unmarked and untarnished - something you hazard won’t stay like that under sea water conditions. So instead of sinking into the thoughts of jewellery logistics, you decide to quip back the only way you know how. 

‘You know pirates don’t typically get married,’ you mention plainly, parrying away the thoughts of anxiety troubling you, and Steve balks. ‘Some do, but for most it’s about actions and intentions. You can say you’re married and that you love someone, but that means nothing if you’re willing to leave them behind or hurt them. You might as well fall on your own sword if you fail them.’

‘I have the best intentions,’ Steve pledges, his resolve dwindling as he all but begs for your consideration. ‘All the intentions. A forever of intentions if you’ll just allow me to be with you-‘

He doesn’t realise he was stepping closer until your palm is pressing against his chest, pausing his feet and thoughts as your eyes search his.

Steve had grown quite adept at reading you while under your command, and even now, the fact that there wasn’t a dagger pressed into the nape of his neck let him know how honestly you were deliberating this.

With a lick of your lips and small inhale, you drop your hand as if his own rattling heartbeats had shunted you away.

‘I’ll grant you permission to board my ship,’ you say with a certainty that even surprises you. As if it was always a possibility, but one you never believed you would reconsider. It was progress.

‘I’ll be there at dusk,’ he accepts in a rushed out huff of relief, a smile peeling itself naturally across his face now.

‘And you have to follow through on your promises,’ you highlight, his smile wavering for a beat at the seriousness of your voice, and face. He calms himself, smothering the joy that is threatening to overflow inside, and swallows it all down.

‘I’ll disinherit myself right away,’ he vows seriously, matching the twitch of a smile that seems to be bullying itself onto your own lips. ‘Just call me Steve.’

‘This can’t be a game to you either,’ you warn, and as if third time’s the charm, Steve doesn’t push his excitement.

‘It’s not, I promise you it’s not just… just let me prove it,’ he claims. ‘Please.’

Here stood Steve, a prince turned pirate with eyes made only for you. He was begging, pledging himself to you over and over, worshipping the ground you stood upon. And as if it were all catching up to you in that single moment - that yes, you were allowing Steve back into your life - you smile.

It mirrors onto Steve’s face, glee stretching his lips as he steps closer, but your finger is stopping his leaning lips before he can dip any further.

‘If you are wishing to come back with me-‘

‘I am.’

‘- then we should probably talk to your mother,’ your breaths mingling as resignation reels his head back. ‘Last thing I need is her thinking that some missing princess that destroyed her kingdom has kidnapped her son.’

‘Well it wasn’t you who solely massacred our home. It was Blackbeard.’

‘Yes well,’ you manually step back to allow some space between you to breathe and think, ‘Regardless of the technicalities on where my involvement lies in the desolation of your kingdom, I still doubt that it will bode in my favour with your family.’

‘You saved my family that night. You got them out of the palace, and saved my parents. They won’t think of that lightly,’ he says, momentarily grave. ‘So despite how guilty you may feel about all that occurred, you must know they won’t blame you for it. I assure you, the only thing they will fear is that we’re not formally engaged,’ he pouts, twirling the ring between his fingertips, tauntingly.

‘I’ve never been one to follow through on any parental authority, so your mother is just going to have to wait until her son has earned his keep, before that,’ you point at the ring, ‘is something to consider.’

‘Earned his keep huh?’ Steve’s tongue pokes his cheek, and you can only imagine the numerous ways he’s thinking of earning it.

‘Yes. I can’t just let you back onto my boat and allow you to reap benefits of someone who once had close relations with the captain.’

‘You make it sound like close relations are a bad thing,’ he teases, testing the waters.

‘It would be untoward of you to have any assumptions based on our history,’ you pluck the ring from his fingers, admiring it for a moment before slipping it into the chest pocket of his undone doublet. 

‘I’m not marrying you Steve Harrington.’ His face squirms as if he can’t read it. ‘I love you. And I enjoy your company. But I don’t need a ring.’

At least not yet.

‘So you don’t want a wedding?’ He asks, marred with confusion as he fights the urge to shake his head. ‘My mother will be-‘

‘I swear, if you mention your mother’s opinion in hopes of swaying my answer-‘

‘Right- right yeah, got it,’ he clears this throat, suddenly remembering the tightrope he’s traversing.

You both chuckle. Sun drenched winds brush between you both, and you inhale the golden goodness into your lungs. As if your insides will now be as serene as the nature around you.

‘I just want a person,’ you admit quietly, and shimmering gold passes over Steve as he looks at you.

‘I can be your person,’ he vows seriously, before he squawks out a grunt as you shove him back playfully.

‘You already are you fool,’ you grin, beaming at the way he bounces back closer and takes a hold of your hand, gently leading you back up the hill as you silently accept what is to follow. To speak to his family. Candidly. To bare the wrath of what you expect. 

Steve’s fingers squeeze your own as if he can sense the bubbling anxiety in your chest.

‘Besides,’ you clear your throat, ‘I’m still yet to revel in the openness of you courting me.’

Steve almost stops walking as his swinging arm halts and he stares down at you. ‘Excuse me?’

‘On the boat you told me that if you were courting me, I would know,’ you mention, a wry look tugging at Steve’s features in recognition.

‘I… I did yes. But-‘

‘But apparently it wasn’t very clear at all,’ you smirk. ‘For someone trying to court and propose to me, your attempts have been pretty lacklustre.’

‘Lacklustre?!’ He guffaws.

‘Mhmm,’ a giggle ripping from your throat before you try to tamper it down, plastering back on the face of someone thoroughly unimpressed with his efforts. ‘Looks like you’re going to have to work on it.’

‘On your boat?’ Steve double checks, as if the mental arithmetic’s were twirling him about.

‘Well how else am I to know you’re courting me when you did such a piss poor job after you left it-‘ and Steve growls, wrapping his arms around your waist as he playfully tackles you into him.

‘Oh I am going to court the fuck out of you,’ he states, kissing you deeply that a flurry of butterflies erupt deep low in your tummy.

Chapter Text

Turns out, it is very easy to consider giving up a throne when its kingdom has crumbled and people lay strewn across neighbouring isles. Steve’s stomach still knots itself together though as you both near the villa, his hand momentarily pulsing in yours in anticipation.

The earlier frenzy has passed by the time you reenter, the garish drawing room gaping open as the king and queen remain, talking in hushed tones as you approach. Their faces flicker, taking in your clasped hands but their sons solemn expression, and they beckon you in to sit on a pair of too plump sofas, the rounded buttoned cushions embedding themselves into you as you lower.

‘So?’ The queen asks, barely containing her curiosity before Steve explains everything. 

Explains how he found out the truth of your past. Explains how you’ve invited him back to the ship. Explains how he wishes to renounce his title.

And it takes surprisingly little time for them to consider it all, and eventually accept his request.

‘You’re sure?’ Steve asks, not entirely certain he believes their willingness either, but their faces twist into something he too has come to terms with. Decades of training and preparation for something that… no longer exists.

It is a sour reality, one that they seemingly take well, and it evokes a whole new realm of possibilities as you witness how the Harrington name outwardly welcomes the change.

‘Well we would be lying son if we said the thought had not crossed our minds,’ the king says stiffly, palm protectively placed upon his wife’s shoulder at his side. ‘Rather difficult to rule a kingdom when it’s no longer there.’

‘And besides,’ the queen adds, ‘the climate here is quite agreeable. There is a reason we would visit here for sun breaks.’

‘The weather clearly agrees with you too mother,’ Steve looks at her affectionately, a soft glow taking over his features as you sense him physically relax. ‘It is not something I choose lightly, but I am glad we are in accord.’

‘Of course we are my boy,’ she whispers, her thumb stroking his hand as she leans across the space, and you suddenly feel far too warm witnessing something that feels far too private. Too homely. Too familiar.

She shunts her eyes away from Steve, catching on your own as your spine stiffens in its seat.

This was a family matter. You had made a silent promise that you would not involve yourself in this conversation. How Steve’s parents acknowledge his request was none of your business, and you were determined to not integrate yourself, to resign yourself away from the topic unless specifically called upon.

It seems though, this is that moment.

‘You know I had heard about you,’ she says, eyeing you carefully, gingerly almost. As if nervous to be approaching a skittish cat. ‘Many, many years ago.’ 

She smiles, as if tasting the memory before delicately reaching for your fingers.

‘News of a missing princess was talk of the town back in the day. You had stirred up quite a ruckus with your little departure.’ Your lips part as if to argue, and as if she could sense the words the queen continues before you can object.

‘Although I don’t blame you of course. On the few occasions I had met your parents there were very few things to like about your father and the ideologies he’d happily spout. You know I actually found it rather amusing that he would so adamantly plaster on about his concerns over sea folk stealing his daughter. I told everyone that would listen- didn’t I darling?‘ she juts her chin over her shoulder to her husband before reeling back, ‘told everyone what a preposterous idea it was, and many agreed too.’

Out of everything she has mentioned, you latch onto one morsel.

‘You met my parents?’ Your voice finds you, slightly dry yet brimming with hidden emotion.

‘Oh yes, at quite a few balls and successions. The last time we must have seen them, your mother was looking rather plump. I suspect that she must have been pregnant with you my dear,’ the twinkle in her eye suddenly smothers itself, her infectious smirk dimming too. ‘We didn’t see her after that.’

Steve swallows something hard in his throat, as if even unprompted, the truth of what your future would have been was so glaringly obvious and barbaric. The queen shuffles in her seat, brushing away the tension in her hips before adopting the composure of a serene statue - kind eyes and soft smiles that stick on you like stone.

‘I would like to think that after everything you’ve been through, you’re happy my girl.’

The words puncture deep, and before you allow anything further to creep to the surface, you simply nod.

‘Of course ma’am.’

She beams at the admission, as if she feels personally responsible for ripping such a confession from you, and she leans forward as if to gossip, negating all secrecy from her voice as the men either side of her listen in easily.

‘You know, you would have been exactly the type of girl I would have wanted for my Steve.’ Steve who shifts beside you as if he’s both mildly embarrassed and acutely aware of what a compliment that is. ‘Sharp and ruthless. Someone to keep him on his toes and my dear, I daren’t know how much dancing he has done this past year.’

You can’t help the chuff that escapes you, Steve’s gaze hot on your cheek. 

‘A fair bit,’ you say mildly, tempering your growing grin at the familiarity you are currently holding with a woman you once served.

‘No doubt,’ she agrees.

‘Well if this is what you want,’ the king interjects, eyeing his son who silently straightens in his seat, as if only just now expecting a disagreement. 

‘It is,’ he responds confidently, holding his fathers stare which instantly softens at the tone. ‘I know it might not be in the best nature to finalise our families name while in the company of pirates-‘

‘I have no quarrel with you being a pirate my boy,’ his father states, interrupting Steve’s impending spiral. 

‘I mean… I did it,’ you hazard a joke, and thankfully it lands as smiles burst across everyone’s lips.

‘You certainly did,’ the king says to you with a tip of his head.

‘I’m rather jealous if I do say so myself,’ the queen says out of the blue, and her husband turns to her intrigued.

‘Jealous my love?’

‘I would so love to be a pirate for the day,’ she sighs, almost wistfully. ‘Brandishing a sword… slaying ocean beasts.’

‘You can always visit,’ Steve is quick to suggest, soaking in the enthusiasm that’s leeching from his parents, ‘although I doubt the quarters would be to your standard.’

‘And piracy isn’t all about pillaging,’ you tentatively add. ‘Some of us simply follow the rules of the sea and the freedom of a boat.’

‘How marvellous,’ the queen squints through her smile.

‘Well as long as you’re happy,’ the king says to his son, Steve nodding earnestly.

‘I will be,’ he replies, glancing over at you. ‘I am.’

‘And you must look after each other,’ the queen quickly adds, the role of doting mother stretching to encompass you too, ‘even though I suspect she’ll be watching you more than the other way round.’

‘A high probability,’ you state plainly.

‘And please be safe,’ she tries to hide her grimace, but worry colours her words too great. ‘I know gallivanting around the world is a gruelling business, but just be careful. For your mother’s sake.’

A thousand pleas fill her eyes as she casts what she hopes, isn’t a final look at her son. Steve all but drinks it in, offering back what he believes to be an equally convincing promise.

‘Of course,’ he assures easily, fingers finding yours and weaving together. ‘We’ll be safe.’

~ ~ ~

One Year Later

‘In what world is that safe?’ Steve yells from the deck below, head tipped back as he glares up at your swinging body high above in the sails. The rope knotted intricately around your waist and thighs keeps your upside down body firmly in place, allowing you to easily thread the new pulley system through the brass cleats dotted along the booms. The wind knocks you about, the waves shaking the boat and its mast with every hit but you carry on, undeterred as you tug the final piece through, proudly looking down at your crew.

‘I told you it was easy!’ You shout down, your hair whipping wildly below your dangling head.

‘And she really thought now was the time to try this?’ Steve cries out, glancing at his brothers nearby with an exasperated sigh as a cannonball plunges into the ocean beside them, salt spray crashing onto the deck and wetting everyone’s sandals.

‘You know Mae,’ Pete shrugs, unflinching. ‘No-one’s gon’ tell her not do some’in if she already se’ her mind to it.’

‘Besides, now’s arguably the best time to trial it,’ Eddie agrees, peering at you under the shade of his palm.

‘When we’re under fire?!’ Steve worries, his voice pitching as they both cast him a look.

‘Precisely,’ they say easily, years of knowing your every thought and track from childhood allowing them an insight to your brilliant mind.

Steve had every confidence in you too. His concern was now only slightly stained by the unyielding devotion he held for you, his heart leaping into his throat as a beam collides into your side.

‘She couldn’t have done this from the crows nest?’ He shouts.

‘I’m good,’ you squeak out, pointing down to the other end of the deck before belaying orders. ‘Benji, hoist this sail back, you too Will!’

They silently get to work, heaving two ropes that hoist up a main sail that was capturing most of the wind. The speed you lose is noticeable, and any available crew is peering over the sides to see the nearing galleon behind as it smashes through the waves.

Cannon fire peppers either side of you, sprinkling the ocean high into the air as your foe’s front cannons struggle to lock onto anything solid. It’s evident they’re not used to seas this choppy or winds this intense, and as you tie up the final hitch knot along the boom, you allow yourself to study the approaching vessel.

The wooden hull is too weathered, as if the varnish has peeled away from horrendous storms or lack of upkeep, and their flag flaps an array of bright colours. You don’t recognise the kingdom they hail from, but that was part of the risk when you decided to keep sailing east until your maps had all finished.

Your crew were all in favour of the proposed journey, talk of the mission collecting a few more lost souls from adjacent markets as you sailed through for stock, and before long you were surging past continents, your maps growing thinner and sparser with each passing month.

Your own new black flag flutters with the last of the wind above you, the bleached grey colour growing sluggish as your ship finally slows enough that you can almost hear the glee from the other ship.

It was of no surprise that the black flags of piracy was a universally disliked symbol, the welcoming committee for each new ocean you entered often meeting you with violence and a language you’d never heard before. It didn’t mean the challenge for each new encounter lessened though, and as you turn and stare forward, noting your set course, you grin as you realise it’s all coming together.

‘Keep straight on those rocks Dickie!’ You yell down, righting yourself upwards as you drop the boom’s rope down a Jacob’s ladder careening the side of the ship. When the waxed end hits the deck, you let go, loosening your own harness as you belay down the mast.

‘You better be up here soon Captain ‘cause they gettin’ close!’ Dickie shouts as you beam up at him from the deck below, untying the rope from your thighs.

‘When have I ever let you down?’ You tease, and he smirks back before you hail over Benji.

‘Very important,’ you state, pointing at the rope end you have just dropped down from above. ‘Do not pull this unless on my signal, got it?’

‘Got it,’ he nods earnestly, and before you can stroll off to the next assignment Steve has hooked his fingers round your arm.

‘Why do you insist on doing dangerous things like that without letting me know first-‘

You grab his shirt and haul him to your lips, kissing him passionately and letting slip an unearthly groan before releasing him with a shove. The entire thing renders him momentarily speechless, and he all but fumbles for your hold again as you smile at him.

‘Have you tied your rope?’ You ask, distracting him from his true worry.

He nods, and the motion rocks him back to form words. ‘Yeah.’

‘I don’t need to check it or get Benji to redo it?’ You mock.

‘You know I’m much better at my knots now,’ he taunts back in a low voice, the redness around your wrists flushing you with heat before you step back again to gather yourself.

‘Alright then.’

Wood splinters itself through the wind as a part of the gunwall explodes across the way. The gaining distance making it easier for the other ship to aim their front cannons.

Steve can read the hundreds of orders firing though your mind, and releases you with a curt nod. ‘Be safe. I love you. Can’t wait to marry you,’ He says for the umpteenth time, an ongoing joke that has filtered its way into the past year.

‘I will. Love you too. Only in your dreams,’ you respond like clockwork, grinning at each other as you run off to your stations.

The shards of rocks dotting the ocean ahead clearly have Dickie nervous, and only as you near him do his shoulders relax, his grip unclipping from the helm as you take his place.

‘Go help Pete with those final ropes.’

‘Aye Cap.’

Soon everything falls into place like a well rehearsed play, and as you hear the sails of the ship behind beat wildly in anticipation of reaching you, rocks start to sprout around your hull as if on cue. From behind, the ocean ahead is mostly obscured, and only once it’s too late do your chasers realise they have been lead into a minefield of rising coral banks and ancient rocks.

You hear the scrape of wood scratching the sides, but as you expertly weave through the field, no such markings graze your home. A towering pillar of rock creeps closer from up ahead, its spiky sisters marking the horizon few and far between as the rock bank deepens. 

‘Ready!’ You signal, your crew bracing themselves as many have ropes lining their palms. The rocks must have dislodged the enemy ship’s cannons, none firing since they entered the field, but their bow is so close you hazard they could probably leap across to your stern with how little they can slow down by choice.

The rock column careens closer, its crumbling peak sliding towards the bow and lining itself up with the undamaged gunwall, and you veer away only slightly as you follow the clearing path of what dwindling ocean remains.

‘Cap’n,’ you hear Pete call out, nerves thickening his voice as he shares what you predict is a shared show of concern among the crew.

Rocks strike the edge of the bow, a rogue stalagmite brushing your side as panicked cries sound from the boat behind. 

‘In a second,’ you try to calm your crew, a clear arc of water opening up ahead as you change course.

Gunfire ricochets over your shoulder, a lonesome sail now punctured by a bullet likely meant for you, and you can tell the locals are now growing restless, the risk that they may actually try to jump and board your boat growing by the second.

The helm wiggles in your hold, something unseen raking along the belly, and you grimace as you shunt the ship away, another gunshot rallying over your head, another sail now torn.

‘Nearly there,’ you murmur to wind, your voice carrying to those who need to hear it as your chosen pillar is now within throwing distance. Your speed however is faster than anticipated, and as you navigate into the bare blue bend, the pillar is already hurrying past the deck.

‘Mae!’ Eddie yells, and instantly you sound off.

‘NOW!’ You cry, multiple ropes bound to the centre mast being flung overboard like a wave.

Nooses catch over the coned tip, the ropes stretching taut as soon as the weight of the ship tugs at them, and you all jolt from the sudden change of control. The helm curls beneath you, the deck tilting dangerously as the entire ship pivots around the rock pillar, and in one great swoop your ship swivels away from the danger, suddenly swimming through unmarred water as the rock field is left behind.

‘CUT THE ROPES!’ You order, and as your entourage soars past you in the opposite direction, your crew sever the ropes with a fraying release, the deck groaning back into place as it rights itself.

A crash of debris sounds from behind as your company beaches themselves atop their own terrain, and with a giddy heart you shout down to Benji who’s already watching you with patient eyes.

‘Pull, Benji!’ 

The young boy yanks the rope down hard, a ripple effect of loosening knots dancing along the higher booms, and with a rewarding gust of wind, the main sail falls down to catch itself in it, shunting the ship forward as it it were racing ahead to catch the rest of the winds themselves.

Your crew roars with excitement, slaps and cheers sounding off along the deck, and you smile proudly to yourself, catching Steve’s eye as he winks at you fondly.

Another successful escape.

~ ~ ~

‘What are you doing up here?’ Steve half laughs, half scalds as he wriggles himself onto the cramped platform beside you, the crows nest offering just enough space for two people and a burning oil lamp.

The moonless sky has stained the ocean an inky black, and the ship slices through the icy waves below, lit only by a few lamps dotted along the deck, and now in the nest. Your seal fur coat swallows most of the chill up in the sails, but as Steve’s hand lands on your thigh, nothing warms you quicker. 

‘Hello to you too,’ you tease, ignoring his obvious concern as you tug him towards your lips and kiss him deeply. The grip on your thigh tightens a moment before you pull back, and even in the smoky lamplight you can tell his frostbitten cheeks aren’t flushed from just the cold alone.

‘Well that’s quite a welcome,’ he says once he’s found his voice, and you grin.

‘I’m just surprised you made it up here in one piece.’

‘I’ll have you know my sea legs are a lot more sturdy now,’ he takes the bait, straightening up in his seat as if to puff out his chest that’s swaddled in fur.

‘I would hope so, considering how long we’ve been at sea,’ you smile knowingly at him as a rogue wave below lashes at the bow, wobbling the mast and you both in it as you effortlessly shift with the motion.

‘See?’ Steve says with raised brows, as if surviving that one tilt amounts to all the other things you’ve both survived over the years. 

‘Very impressive,’ you taunt unconvincingly before glancing back out to sea.

‘Told you,’ Steve grins, only now noticing how the dimples by your eyes aren’t crinkling as much as they tend to. ‘What is it?’ He whispers, leaning in closer to your face as if aligning himself with your eye line will help him see the issue plaguing you. Just the heat of his breath sends a shiver under your coat.

‘These are new stars,’ you say after a sharp inhale, and Steve looks up now, tracking your view and copying as he squints.

To Steve, stars were just stars. You and Eddie were the masters of learning the lay of land from ocean and sky, but Steve can’t find the same conclusion as to why your face is so worrisome.

‘I see,’ he nods gingerly.

‘Do you know what that means?’ You look at him curiously, and he almost cowers under the scrutiny, as if he’d fallen into a honeyed trap of trick questions. But then he sees the stars twinkle in your eyes again, all concern washed away as if it had never been there.

‘Well… well I see stars but, I don’t follow why that’s noteworthy,’ he admits, and a coy smile stretches across your lips as if you’re about to let slip a juicy secret.

‘It means…’ you stretch your legs over his lap, long lithe limbs that remind him of a napping cat before you still, ‘we have run out of maps.’

And your smile lights up the night sky with sharp, unfettered glee.

‘We’ve run out of maps,’ he repeats, face breaking into a matching smile as his nose brushes yours in congratulations.

‘Mhmm,’ you nod, teasing a victory kiss before rearing back. ‘Which means, we’re in a place that no one has ever been before.’

‘Or we are just somewhere that no one has even chartered or written about,’ Steve says, and you shove him lightly for trying to disturb the accomplishment.

‘Why must you ruin this with logic?’ You groan and he chuckles in response, a deep rich sound that sinks deep into your bones, and thaws you from within.

‘I mean am I wrong?’ He chuffs to justify himself, glancing around the small cubby in the sky as he notices the wooden floor around your hips lay bare. ‘See, even you have not written about it yet.’ 

‘Thats because I was soaking in the achievement,’ you stress, giddy in itself at what this all means.

‘Okay well… soak it in,’ Steve says, wafting his hands impatiently in front of him before turning back to you. ‘And then we need to mark it.’

‘How?’ You giggle. ‘My scrolls are below in my quarters and I don’t know about you, but I’m quite enjoying how quiet it is up here right now compared to the crew’s mess this time of night.’

As if on queue, a rumble of disagreement erupts below, warm light seeping out from an open hatch door as the rich smoky smell of stew wafts upwards. Steve nods in agreement.

‘Okay then, um…’ he looks around, fiddling with his surroundings and the swaying oil lamp before he realises that nothing is detaching. The crows nest is bare except for the two of you, and Steve is then digging into his coat for a moment before he unwraps something from around his neck, and tugs free a small round ring of gold.

His proposal ring to be specific.

‘What are you doing?’ you ask, watching as he lifts his outstretched hand between the bars of the nest, hovering it confidently over the lapping ocean beneath.

‘Well how else are we to mark on this earth that we have been in this exact spot?’ He says smoothly, matter-of-factly. ‘I can’t think of anything more permanent than a token of us laying on the sea bed.’

‘Wait-‘ your hands catch on his, pulling his arm back behind the railings as his clasped fingers uncoil their grip around the ring.

‘What is it?’ Steve asks, and his face is so open, so innocent, you second-guess whether Steve realises he was about to throw overboard the single thing that foundered you two coming back together.

Not that your relationship - your life - could be reduced to a poor proposal and a royal ring. But it was certainly a contributing factor.

‘I- are you sure?’ You stress to him, pleading with your eyes as his own simply widen in honesty.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Well, doesn’t the ring have any value to you?’ You query, folding your fingers around his own to keep everything safe and in reach. ‘And I’m not just talking monetary, what about sentimentality?’

‘A ring is just a ring when I have you,’ he says it so plainly, your heart tripping over itself as his free hand cups your chilled cheek, and he looks at you with a fondness that could thaw the most stubborn of hearts. 

You’re climbing fully into his lap and straddling his hips in an instant, his words, his looks, his everything melting you into his hold as your held hands squish between your chests and you crush him with a kiss.

Your thick fur coats bump against each other as it deepens, and despite the lack of light from the moon, the sun or the stars, everything is brighter in his company, in his arms, in his touch.

A biting breeze separates you with a shunted gasp, and as if you hung the very stars above your heads, Steve stares at you with wild worship.

‘Only if you’re sure,’ you say once more as he starts to straighten his arm through the bars, your unclenched hands now seeking purchase in the thick lapel folds of his coat.

‘I cannot think of anything more romantic, than an eternity together, uninterrupted.’

‘At the bottom of the ocean,’ you tease, and he latches on to the sound, kissing you again before he sobers for a half a heartbeat, and opens his palm.

The gold and leather rope drop through the air so fast it’s gone before you realise his fist has opened fully, and the ocean gulps it in one as the plop is swallowed by the sound of rushing water.

You half anticipate Steve’s face to show a hint of regret, for throwing overboard something he had clung to, if not even mockingly, for the past year, but he shows nothing of the sort.

Only simple, adoring, endless love.

The cold darkness of isolation in the sails has you leaning in again, kissing him as if you’ve never done this before and it’s a sudden craving, but Steve can read you. Can sense the mild exhilaration of leaving your mark somewhere currently unchartered. Hands roam, pawing at the oversized coats as you sink deep into it, until a yell from below ricochets along the mast.

‘DINNER!’ Eddie yells, hands cupped around his mouth to direct it up to you. 

You peer over the side, thankful that the crew likely can’t see the number of feet up here before hollering back down to your friend. ‘COMING!’

‘Oh to be uninterrupted,’ Steve jokes, and you can feel just how frustrated he is beneath you, agreeing silently with the wish.

‘For eternity,’ you smirk, and you slink off his lap before taking one last look out at the coal silk sea below, and the nonexistent ripple of your mark on this earth and its seabed.

‘Forever yours,’ Steve whispers into your neck, and you shudder under the touch.

‘Forever yours,’ you murmur back.

Forever the ocean. Forever pirates. Forever free.