Rogier wasn't sure what it was about the boy, why his eyes kept returning to the kid. Many times he saw — out of the blue — how he stepped in front of his captain, a dagger in each hand, his fear for an unknown crew that was outnumbering him pushed to a far corner of his mind. He wasn't fearless. He had seen it in the way his fingers clutched around the hilts of his weapons, in the stance of his shoulders; he had noticed his nervous breathing. He wasn't fearless — yet he didn't let the fear control him. 

That first impression had been enough to command respect. 

Also Markus' respect, he knew, even though the man refused to admit it to himself. But it was his admiration for the boy that made him so keen on forcing the boy on his knees; as if Rory's defeat was the only way to convince Markus of his own manhood. 

Rogier had let him, curious as to how to boy would respond. 

With dignity, it had been revealed. 

The boy had shown tenacity, was stubborn, had taken the high road, and dared to stand up to someone. Yet, he didn't ignore his orders, nor did he dwell on the negative when things weren't as he'd like them. 

He had more to offer than staying Markus' doormat. 

He wasn't sure what to do with Markus anyway. Knowing his own background, the way he was looking down on Rory was simply ridiculous. If anything, Rogier had to make him kill his first man and Markus had howled like a baby. He had been twenty. However, he knew that little blonde wouldn't blink an eye. Someone who juggled his daggers so confidently must have looked Death right in the eye. 

North had told him that he had taken the boy on board years ago. Rogier hadn't pried further, although he was curious about the boy's background. A boy like that didn't just end up on a pirate ship. 

Rogier lifted the golden goblet and took a swing of the wine he had saved for dinner. The kid was at a table halfway through the room, surrounded by his former crewmates, although they had the company of men Rogier knew for a long time. His red-haired friend was sitting next to him. A scatterbrain, but one who'd turned out to be gifted with a lot of knowledge about herbs and potions. Rogier was unable to look at the two without thinking back to the time he had seen them kiss. 

Where Rogier came from, two men who chose to be together weren't the norm. Men who did surrender to these longings were blasphemed and often disowned by their families. Rogier never cared much about people's opinions; after all, breaking the rules was his way of living. That however didn't mean he had seen a lot of male couples, let alone that he had ever wondered if he was interested in being with a man himself. After Aida died, he had promised himself he would never lie with another woman again, knowing every curve would remind him of her, every touch igniting the burning emptiness inside him. 

When Rory had shown him that hesitating smile on the same night, he couldn't help himself but wonder how it would feel to rake his fingers through that blond hair, how the boy would sigh when he ran his thumb across his jaw and how those full lips would taste. 

He had shaken it off, dismissing it as a curiosity about the unknown. 

And to this day, he still refused to make anything else of it. 

. . .

Rory had dressed warmly tonight. It was cold outside whilst he was told to stand watch. Although most opted to stay in their hammock at night, Rory did like the quiet and the cold of the night. All day long he was surrounded by shouting voices; sometimes his head started to pound, making him long for the rushing of the waves. 

For the past two days, Markus had almost been his only company. Now and then the captain watched them from a distance to see how he was doing, and he actually thought it was worse than being with Markus alone. Especially because he kept tripping over his words when he was reading them, while Markus kept telling him that he had never met such an idiot and that he was the dumbest guy on the ship because he was making the same mistakes over and over again. 

He knew the man hated him, and that his words were only meant to bring him down. Nevertheless, it made him doubt himself. Hopefully Markus wouldn't have duty tonight; it would be a blessing to be freed from him for a couple of hours. 

Rory stepped on deck and looked around, searching for the highest officer who could tell him where to stand guard and what to do in the meantime. It was quiet on deck; there were only six other men patrolling, too far away from each other to have a conversation. 

There was a small breeze playing with his hair, which was just too short to be tied together. The cold bit his face and he took a deep breath. From behind the rudder, a shadow came closer. Rory was startled when he realized who it was; the captain. If anything, he had expected him to stay in his quarters at night. The shock quickly drifted away and was replaced by enthusiasm. For two days he had gotten stuck on letters; he couldn't wait to do something different.

"You're gonna teach me something tonight?"

Rogier's eyes rested upon him. The bluish moonlight didn't alter the color of his irises much. Rory still found them breathtaking. 

With a nod of his head, Rogier instructed him to follow him and they headed to the prow of the ship. Next to each other, they leaned against the railing, staring into the swirling darkness. The middle part of the sea seemed to be bluer because it was bathing in the light of the moon. Rory thought back to the last time they had been standing here together when the captain had given him his daggers back and offered him to become his apprentice. 

"Tomorrow I'll show you how to use the Jacobs staff to navigate. At night, we focus on the Pole Star. You know how to find it?"

Rory's eyes searched the sky. "The brightest one, right?"

Rogier shook his head. "That's a myth." Raising his hand, he started to point out the different stars. Rory already knew about The Big and the Little Dipper, but he had never heard of the stars Merak and Dubne, nor had he ever been able to distinguish the constellation of Cassiopeia.  

In his mind, Rory took notes of everything Rogier told him while he looked up to the sky and pointed out other figures until he had mentioned all constellations that were visible right now. 

"The lion of Nemea, that's the story behind the constellation of the Lion, isn't it?" Rory said. He couldn't remember where he had heard the story for the first time. Details like that always slipped his mind, but the stories themselves never left. 

Rogier looked at him from the side, raising his eyebrows a little. "To be frank, I don't know much about the origin of the constellations."

"You want me to tell you the story of the lion of Nemea?" Rory couldn't fight the enthusiasm in his voice. 

His captain held his glance, then he shrugged his shoulders. "Why the hell not? It's not like it's gonna be a busy night."

Rory turned a little more towards the man. The last time he had told someone a story felt like ages ago and there was a tickle in his stomach. He loved it; embellishing ancient stories and taking his listeners to other worlds. And so, he started to tell the man about the monstrous beast living in the woods of Argolis — a place whose location was unknown to him. With his fingers, he formed claws with which he showed how the monster was disemboweling people and cattle. Quickly he forgot that Rogier was the one who was listening; he saw the expectant eyes of his little sister while the story unfolded itself. "The monster was invincible, its skin too thick to be pierced by a weapon. A young man, named Herakles, was given the task to defeat the lion and bring back his skin as some kind of penance." Rory described how Herakles was chasing the beast for over a month; his arrows didn't harm him, and not even his sword was able to leave a scratch. In the end, he found the lion's den, which he entered with only a club. He bludgeoned the animal when it jumped on him, then he strangled it. "With the claws of the lion, he managed to cut the skin off, which he offered to the king. The god Zeus gave the lion a place among the stars, so the whole world would be a witness of Herakles' strength," he ended his story. He looked up to the stars again. "And that's how these stars were born."

Rory heard a soft chuckle next to him. "Who could have guessed that there was so much wisdom hidden in this little boy?"

Rory's cheeks started to flush when he remembered who was standing beside him. His eyes flashed aside, but the captain looked more relaxed than Rory had ever seen. The lines of his face were softer, the look in his eyes less piercing. 

"I love stories," Rory told him. "Once I hear one, I never forget."

"Hmm." Rogier leaned his forearms on the railing, staring into the distance. "Tell me another one."

Rory's heart raced at the sound of these words, and he dug into his memory to find another tale to tell his captain.