Rory tried really hard to control his anger, but it felt like someone had stolen his soul now he no longer possessed Plague and Omen. The blood in which the two blades had been drenched, had always given him strength and he had never been separated from his weapons before. With savage swings, he scrubbed the stove and the surrounding tables. Three days had passed since his captain had taken his daggers, but with every hour passing by his blood started to boil more furiously. 

It was just fucking unfair. He did every shitty task on this godforsaken ship and they were still making fun of him. He longed back to the days on the Imo Gen, which had been his home for so long. He missed the crow's nest, where the wind was pulling at his hair and he was finding himself above every other man for once. Scouring the horizon to find land or other ships, knowing much depended on his alertness. He thought back to the time he had been in the nest with Finn, showing his friend how to sharpen his daggers. It was the only time he had voluntarily lent his weapons. Even with Finn's missing memories, he had trusted the boy. 

"Calm down kid." A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. "Ye don't have to polish the wood, huh?"

With a sigh, Rory's shoulders slumped down. He just didn't know what to do with his frustration. 

"Why don't ye cut the meat for me?" Baldur plopped a large amount of meat at the table, its shape telling him it had probably been a sheep. "I'll do the veggies."

From the corner of his eyes, Rory looked at the chubby cook. Because of the heat that filled the place, his blonde curls stuck to his face. The man showed him a disarming smile, appeasing him a bit. Baldur and Kidd were the only members of the new crew he felt comfortable around. Something gave him the feeling the man sensed how much he missed his daggers and purposefully wanted to hand him a knife to cut the meat to pieces. At last, he could respond to the dark feelings inside him, imagining it was Markus' body that he was slicing. Ever since Rory had set foot on this ship, the man had done nothing but try to humiliate him and draw him out. And when Rory could no longer control himself and wanted to put him in place, that fucker had walked straight to the captain. Now, who was the spoiled brat around here? He was a fucking snitch.

His fingers closed around the hilt of the knife. A sting of loss traveled through his body. Oh, how he wanted to hold his own daggers for just a minute... Never before he had been unable to touch them. They had been his talismans and without them, he felt cursed. 

"Ye know what weapon is more effective than a dagger?" Baldur asked, who had displayed a few carrots and started to chop them. 

"Well?" Rory grumbled. He kept his eyes focused on the meat that was still leaking blood. He had been in the galley before, so he knew what to do. Cleaning the galley was the nicest of his tasks, especially because Markus wasn't constantly lurking over him. Baldur liked to give him some extra tasks to keep him busy and Markus didn't seem to be in the mood to discuss his tasks with the cook. 

"A smile," Baldur answered.

Frowning, he looked aside. Baldur showed him a wide smile as if he was trying to prove a point. 

Rory huffed. 

"I'm serious boy. Markus is tryin' to get ye down. Show him he can't. Sing, dance, and laugh tonight. Act in a way he doesn't want ye to while he has no right to say somethin' 'bout it."

Rory thought about it for a while. Most nights were filled with music. Baldur played the accordion and Kidd a whistle, and there were more men who pulled up their instruments at night. Up to now, Rory had only stood around with a sulky face. His back turned towards the others, looking out over the ocean while he thought about Finn's fate and the many men that had died in the past weeks. It felt wrong to feast — and yet, he knew what Lee's answer would be. The fact that they were still alive was worth celebrating. Every day, according to him. 

Maybe he was right. Maybe Baldur was right too. 

"You know Markus for a long time?" he wondered. 

"Around four years ago they entered the ship I was working on. They took an interest in the cook. On the merchant ship I worked on, I was often reproached by the officers and they paid shit. Rogier promised me more." He shrugged his shoulders. "I like it here. Rogier treats his crew well."

Rory gritted his teeth, trying to bite back his sarcasm. Yeah, he treats me amazingly. 

"Has he always been a dick?"

"Rogier?" Although Baldur had proven to be a merry guy, there was a warning tone in his voice now. 

"No," Rory answered, although he might be lying. His feelings for the captain were quite complicated. He still felt a great admiration for the man and Rory knew he could have thrown him overboard instead of taking his daggers from him, but still, there was something wallowing in his stomach, every time he thought about the man. "Markus."

"Hmm." Baldur lifted the cutting board, shoving the chopped vegetables in a giant pan and taking more carrots from a sack. "I've heard people say they were inseparable in the beginnin'. I've never seen it. Often, Markus followed his captain like a lost puppy and the whole world was able to see how annoyed Rogier felt about it.

His voice had softened and he glanced over his shoulder. Rory understood. Not a single captain liked to be the subject of conversation when he wasn't around unless they were praising him. A silence fell while they both busied themselves by cutting the food. It didn't take long before Baldur started to hum a sea shanty, making Rory relax a little. 

"Would ye like to be my assistant?" Baldur asked after a while. 

Rory wasn't sure what to answer. Right now everything was better than being Markus' doormat, but it wasn't like he aspired to be inside the galley all day long. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Baldur's smirk. "Ye can be honest with me kid."

"It would be much better than what I'm doin' now," he said. "But I dunno... I miss bein' in the open air. I just love bein' on deck."

Baldur nodded slowly, there was still a hint of a smile around his lips. The answer didn't seem to disappoint him. 

"The captain values fighters," he said. "So take my advice, young lad. Do what yer told, laugh and party with the others and show 'em they can't get ye on yer knees."

. . .

And so, that's what Rory did. Instead of distancing himself again to stare into the dark water, he joined his friends. Lee wrapped an arm around his shoulders immediately, kissing his cheek and pushing a bottle of rum in his hands. 

"I was worried they'd locked you up mate!" the boy laughed. "Come on, I wanna dance with you!"

Lee grabbed his hands — or well, one since the other was holding the bottle. He quickly took a few swings; the booze was burning its way down to his stomach, warming his body. For the first time since Finn had been taken from them, he shook off the sadness for a moment. A smirk formed on his lips while he pushed the bottle into someone else's hands. 

Nobody could dance like Lee — so sensual that even a girl was no match for him. Rory's reflexes however were outstanding, his movements swift and his balance excellent. Surrendering himself to the music was liberating; to think about nothing but the freedom he had craved for his whole life, the most precious thing on earth. Rory's eyes searched the crowd, suddenly curious about how loose his captain's hips were. 

He was leaning against the railing, motionless like a statue. Not even his foot tapped to the rhythm of the music. Markus was standing on his left, North on his right. The look in the man's eyes was blank, causing a stab in his stomach. He was tempted to pull North into the partying crowd as well, were it not that he knew not a single instrument would be able to bring a smile to his face. 

Lee's red hair distracted him; the boy gave him a seductive look and started to dance closer to him. He laid his hands on Rory's chest and slipped them down until they settled right above his hips. His glacial blue eyes reminded him of Rogier. Although his captain's eyes were always freezing, those of his friend were filled with familiar warmth. Lee moved his hand to Rory's face, tangling it up in his hair. Then he bent his head, pressing his lips to Rory's. 

It wasn't like they had never kissed before. Actually, they had done a lot more. Less than Lee had wished for, he had told him that too many times, but it was still more than Rory had done with anyone else. Or at least with a man. His curiosity had taken him to a brothel once when he was fourteen and although the experience hadn't been miserable, he had discovered his preference for men not much later. 

Rory didn't kiss him back immediately but searched for Lee's eyes. "What about Mack?" 

The boy shrugged his shoulders. "It's just a kiss. And it's you." He winked, then their lips connected again. 

It had been a while since he had kissed someone, and it almost felt uneasy. Slipping his fingers through Lee's short hair, he stroked the few long braids to which golden beads were tied. Their tongues danced to their own melody, calling up a warmth inside him that was stronger than that of the rum. The kiss became more passionate and he pulled the boy closer, he could feel his excitement grow because of the physical contact. Before he really became embarrassed hard, he ended the kiss, grabbed Lee's hand, and dragged him into a wild dance. 

Only when his legs started to feel tired and he was thirsting for another drink, he retreated to the side of the ship, taking a few sips from a bottle he pulled out of the hand of a random guy. His eye caught Erik, who was throat-deep in Beckett's mouth. The sight of them didn't wipe his smile away and he took another swig. His eyes shot to the other side of the ship. The two captains were still in front of the railing, lost in memories, it seemed. Both of them. 

For a while, he kept staring at Rogier. There was something inexorably about him, although the look on his face wasn't moody, like that of Marcus who was standing beside him like a guard. The blonde had lifted the corner of his lips, and yet he looked more vulnerable than Rory had even seen him; it felt like he had discovered a tiny crack in his hard shield. 

As if Rogier could hear Rory's thoughts, he cocked his head aside and looked Rory square in the eye. Before Rory knew what he was doing, he smiled sweetly at the guy. The moment the realization did land, his heart started to beat frantically in his chest. Fuck — had he made a fool of himself now? He had just been kissing another guy, and he sure as hell had given away that he wondered how his captain's lips tasted! Quickly he cast his glance down, not knowing what to do. 

Kidd was his savior. The pirate showed up next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Lee had taken his flute from him; in the past days he had learned to play some songs. 

"He hasn't danced in three years," the man said. "Or smiled — a real smile, ye know."

Feeling caught, Rory felt his cheeks get hot. Nevertheless, he looked aside, touched by his words. "Why's that?"

Kidd was silent for a while, staring into the distance as if he wondered whether he should tell Rory the truth or not.

"Ye know why he's so eager to find yer friend?"

Rory shrugged his shoulders. At first, he believed they just wanted a reward, but now he realized they had already confiscated all their belongings. 

"He knows how it feels. When yer lover is taken from ye and yer on yer own."

Rory's eyes shot back to the blond captain, wondering if frozen tears were the reason for his permanent cold glance. 

"Did he... find his lover?" he asked quietly. 

"He did." Kidd sighed. "But she was dead."