Archive of Our Own ^beta

It wasn’t often that they made the trek north like this. Treacherous even with the best of conditions, the safest paths, the best captains. Once the weather dipped colder, a captain and his crew could find themselves stranded, trapped in ice floes. It would be a long winter for any crew stuck too far north, with no hope until the thaw.

Frost was starting to accumulate on the railings of the deck, tiny droplets of ocean spray freezing into crystals along the wood. He had been sure to be careful when he ordered the ship north, careful not to go anywhere too dangerous, where they’d have to worry about grounding in the ice that was starting to make its appearance in the sea. Not even so far north that they’d abandoned all hopes of civilization; small settlements and towns still dotted the land, the glow of lighthouses and twinkle of window lights keeping them on their track ever forward. 

Grillby leaned against the railing, watching the ocean head of them, the thin layer of ice and frost melting around him. It was nearly sunset, and it was quiet, the scant amount of crew needed above deck while the rest gathered below, escaping the cold and the wind. The sky was dark, cloudy; the ocean below rocky and near black. A storm in their future, the beginning flecks of snow drifting slowly around them, evaporating as soon as they got too close to the flickering blue flames of the pirate captain. Damn. 

Huffing a sigh, he stepped away from the railing and crossed the deck, bounding up to the helmsman at the wheel. “We’ll be docking,” he instructed, grabbing his navigator along the way and spreading out his map of the area. He hadn’t been here often enough to memorize the landmarks, but it hadn’t been hard to buy a map of safe harbors from a fellow captain some weeks ago. A few minutes of perusing and he had the course set, orders dispersed, crew in motion like a well oiled machine. 

“Docking, Captain?” A voice behind him made him smile faintly, turning back to face Gaster, leaning back against the railing around the helm of the ship, faint smirk playing across the skeletal face. 

“Storm on the horizon- as I’m sure you know,” he teased, stepping away to allow the helmsman to take over and leading Gaster down to the deck once more. “Unfortunately , I doubt the sky will be clear enough to see the Lights tonight. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day.”

Gaster shrugged it off with an easy smile. “It is rare enough to see them under the best conditions. It is much appreciated that you tried, either way.”

The crew found safe docking just in time, the snowfall thickening as the world around them darkened. Grillby sent most of the crew to shore- those that weren’t needed, those that didn’t want to spend a snowy night aboard the Black Sun. It left a handful of crew to watch, Grillby himself... and Gaster. The snow continued to fall, well into the second night, making sail impossible, coating the deck in multiple inches of snow, paths cleared by the rotating guards on watch. 

 Leaving his cabin in the middle of the second night, donning a long coat, tall boats, elbow length gloves, Grillby stepped out onto the deck; captain or not, snow or not, he’d never leave the crew to guard duty alone. Luckily, it was starting to slow- still snowing, but not nearly as thick as it had been the first day of this storm, the clouds breaking up to glimpses of stars and thin moonlight. Slow and light, the snow storm had quieted to an almost dream-like scene. Seems like they were finally coming out the other side. 

Pausing for a moment, taking in the deck, Grillby was faintly surprised to find Gaster, far across the deck, out of the way. Leaning on the railing and watching the snow fall into the ocean and ice around them. Standing amidst the faint lights and the snow, Grillby allowed himself to admire the scene for a moment. Beautiful- and cold. Crossing the deck, he pulled his coat off, tucking his shirt sleeves into the gloves before he lightly draped it over Gaster’s shoulders. 

“You looked cold,” he hummed, as way of explanation, brushing the snow from the railing to take his place next to Gaster. 

For a moment, Gaster was going to argue- but the coat was nice, warmed from Grillby’s flames, and he instead pulled it tighter around himself, nuzzling into the collar. “.. Thank you. What brings you out in this weather?”

“Hmm.. checking on the crew. I could ask you the same thing?”

“.. Ah, well. I wanted to watch. I don’t come north often, as you know. With the clouds finally breaking, it’s nice to see the stars again. It’s a lovely sight, wouldn’t you agree?”

“... Hmm. I suppose,” Grillby agreed after a moment- not that he was watching the scene, far more focused on the way Gaster tucked into his coat, on the faint brushing of snow along the blue fabric, on the way he glowed under the faint stream of moonlight breaking through the darkness. 

“You aren’t even looking,” Gaster teased, flashing a grin towards the elemental as he stepped in closer. 

“Sure I am. Just- not at the same thing.”