The only upside to getting that drunk with his crewmates was that everyone understood how he felt in the morning. The rowboat back to the ship was filled with quiet groans and mumbles as the pirates did their best to avoid looking into the harsh sunlight, eager to return to the shaded safety of their vessel. Jude felt especially raw when he was that hungover, but waking up on the beach in the arms of his friend definitely eased some of the discomfort.

As they bundled into the dinghies to row back to the ship, Jude managed to secure him and Sebastián a seat beside each other at the very back of the rowboat. With everyone else turned away from them, Jude finally felt confident to reach out and hold his companion’s knee as they rowed. 

Sebastián immediately flashed him a smile. He glanced up at their crewmates, ensuring their privacy before he settled his hand over the top of Jude’s. He then leant to one side, bumping Jude’s shoulder as he turned his lips to his cheek.

“I have a spot where we can meet tonight.”

Jude bit down gently on his lip as he watched Sebastián’s thumb trace over his knuckles. He nodded, unable to help the smile that crawled onto his face, and finally looked up to meet his companion’s eye. 

“Tonight,” he agreed, right as the dinghy rocked up to the side of the galleon.

Jude threw himself into his chores for the rest of the day, hoping that an intense focus would keep a leash on all his giddiness. Though they’d just spent the night resting ashore, any relaxation he felt from his time on the beach was totally diminished by the intensity of his hangover. He felt as rough as he did before they’d anchored, and his body was eager for some care.

Whenever he thought of what that evening would bring – of the warmth, affection, and the touches he would get to exchange – his body flickered with an excited heat. Jude tried to shake it off, lowering his head and hurrying across the deck to find something else to do, to keep himself occupied while he waited for the time to pass.

He was on his way past the helm when an arm suddenly reached out and blocked his path.

Jude rubbed the spot where the elbow had collided with him and looked up to curse out the offending crewmate, but paused when he saw the first mate standing there. She held one finger up to stop him, whilst her attention was turned towards the open door beneath the helm.

She nodded at a voice that echoed from within the officer’s quarters, then finally turned to look at him.

“Ah, it’s you,” Straps noted, scanning her eyes up and down his figure. “I need a hand. Are you strong?”

Jude thought back to his work at the old tavern, and all the kegs he was made to lug around the bar. Not only that, but plenty of nights left him wrangling horses left abandoned, or throwing their drunken riders to the curb. He’d spent a week out of work before joining the crew, and his chores aboard a pirate ship were exhausting and draining, but he was sure his body would remember how to get the job done.

“I suppose so,” he murmured.

Straps gave him a satisfied nod. “Fetch some wine from the storage den and bring it to the captain’s room. They’re small; two kegs should do,” she instructed, already turning to retreat into the officer’s quarters.

Jude’s eyes widened at the mention of the captain, then he turned on his heel and rushed below deck.

Panic threatened to set in when he stumbled into the food stores and looked upon the sheer amount he would have to dig through, but he was relieved to find the wine was neatly set aside with the rest of their water and booze for easy access. He only had to glance over his options once before he spotted what he needed; a stack of barrels with taps built into the lids, small enough to fit under each arm. 

It felt just like old times when he scooped a barrel up onto each shoulder with practise grace. Finding his balance on a moving ship was a little more awkward, but he managed to centre his gravity by the time he’d hauled the kegs back up onto the deck.

Jude stopped in front of the door to the officer’s quarters, taking a moment to catch his breath. Though the barrels weighed heavily on his shoulders and the ship swayed with the winds, lugging the wine from storage had been the easy part. It was time to face the captain.

He walked carefully as he stepped into the quarters under the helm. There were a few rooms along the hallway, but those with open doors only revealed small dining rooms and sleeping areas that looked much the same as those below deck. When he came to a set of french doors that lead into the captain’s room, he paused to catch his breath again, but they flung open before he was given the chance.

Straps stood in the doorway, once again startled to see him there. “Oh,” she uttered, before standing aside to let him through. “I didn’t expect you to manage them both in one trip. Come on, then–”

Jude was sure he was dreaming when he saw her smile at him. It must have been a trick of the light.

He stepped inside the captain’s cabin with Straps following right behind. She wasted no time in pointing him towards a serving table on the other side of the room, then stuck close to him as they crossed over to it. The room was dimly lit by a few choice lamps, but Jude was just able to make out a few details of the room.

He knew enough about ships to recognise that they were at the back of the helm, where a mighty wall of windows would overlook the sea they had just torn through. The captain’s were covered from floor to ceiling by a bizarre combination of curtains, no doubt looted from various other vessels, which kept the room shrouded in shadows despite the early hour.

The only light came from a monstrous war table in the middle of the room. Lamps and candles encased in glass were littered across the surface of it, lighting up a great map that sprawled from end to end like a parchment tablecloth. The small flames cast flickering shadows over every inch of the room, revealing some precarious piles of clutter and hiding others in darkness.

“Kez, I need your eyes,” a voice called out, tearing the first mate’s attention away from Jude.

She huffed under her breath and walked towards the war table, leaving Jude alone before she could give him any further instruction. Eager to set down the kegs, he continued on without her, stepping carefully around a chaise lounge covered in stacks of books and papers until he finally reached the serving table. He quickly began the process of unloading the weight from his shoulders, setting the barrels down onto an empty set of racks, then unlocking the taps to prepare them for serving.

From behind him, he could hear the quiet murmurings of conversation around the table, but he dreaded to turn around and look. It was only when he heard his name called that he threw a glance over his shoulder.

“Jude! Serve us, would you? There are glasses in the cabinet.”

He whipped back around to examine the serving table and the cabinet underneath it, not wanting to keep the first mate waiting. 

The gentle overlapping of voices continued as he pulled out a set of wooden tumblers and filled them from the kegs. He was grateful to have only counted four bodies in the room, so he’d be able to stack all of their cups in his grasp and deliver them to the table in a single trip. 

Jude stared at his hands as he carefully walked over. As he approached the man closest to him, which he recognised to be the navigator who often stood at the wheel of the ship, the conversation around the table came to a halt.

Straps sucked in a breath through her teeth when she saw him, scolding, “Careful–!” but cut herself off when she realised Jude’s hold on the many cups of wine wasn’t as precarious as it looked. Instead, she watched silently as he handed off the navigator’s glass, then another to the scribe who stood beside him. 

Finally, Jude rounded to the other side of the table, where Straps stood at the captain’s side. She eventually plucked a glass from his grip, but never lifted her gaze off him. 

“What did you do before this, boy?” she questioned.

Jude turned to the captain, who was almost unrecognisable without his long sweeping coat, and held the final cup out to him. He did not take it; he was too busy watching his first mate.

“I was a bartender,” Jude replied, the wine held out patiently.

The captain suddenly laughed and reached out to scoop it from his grip. 

“You picked a good one, Keziah,” he murmured as he sipped. “It would be foolish to waste his talents.” 

Straps gave the captain a curious look, then breathed a sigh into her next sip. “Stay to serve us another round,” she instructed Jude, who was grateful for her translation of the captain’s comments. “You can pour yourself a glass while you wait.”

Jude glanced over at the serving table and gulped. He still felt a prickle of fear to be standing so close to such a severe looking human, but it faltered when he looked back at the captain and where he stood sipping his wine and gazing down at his map. The candlelight shrouded him in warm yellow, and he looked like a completely different man than the visage of death that Jude had first met under the moonlight.

He actually looked quite small without his coat. Though he was barely shorter than Jude, his black double-breasted waistcoat hugged him close, accentuating his slim frame and the delicate curve of his back. His hair looked different too– one side of his head had been gathered into a neat braid that snaked down his shoulder, with gold hoops and rings threaded through the strands. 

Up close, Jude found the odd grey hairs that lightened his temples were not a mere trick of the light; they must have been bleached by the sun, creating threads of gold that ran through the length of his plait from root to tip. The golden strands glinted in the candlelight, like the ring adorning his lip, and the dampness of wine on his tongue.

Jude quickly averted his eyes from the captain’s face. He began to admire the mix of rings on his fingers – a stunning opal on his index and an emerald adorning his pinky, mixed between golden bands of various thicknesses – when suddenly the cluster of gemstones was reaching out to him.

“I like this,” the captain said quietly, fingers approaching the pendant around Jude’s neck. “Is it real?”

Flames tore into Jude’s throat where the captain’s fingertips brushed against it. He knew he was overdue for an evening with Sebastián when his first thought was to lean into it, rather than flee from a man he was supposed to be terrified of. Memories of the whip flashed through his mind, and before he knew it, Jude was praying that the hand would wrap around his throat just so he could feel someone’s flesh biting against his own.

“Could be sea glass,” the captain continued, paying no mind to Jude’s stunned silence. The young pirate bit his lip when he felt the fingers shift, as he pinched the pendant and turned it into the light. “Looks like emerald, though.”

“I think so,” Jude finally responded, somewhat breathlessly. The captain’s eyes flitted from the gemstone up to Jude’s face, before he drew his hand away and broke into a smile.

“Kit.” Straps’ voice was a welcome distraction, which had Jude realising he’d never learnt the captain’s name. She continued from behind her wine, “Stop flirting with the crew.”

“I would never,” Captain Kit responded calmly, not waiting to see Jude’s startled look before he turned back to the map on the table.