The Pirate Queen

Chapter 21

Life on a ship was very repetitive, but Eric found that he loved it. The structure, the order, the schedule all appealed to him. Making breakfast, cleaning, serving lunch, cleaning, bringing Ariel dinner and occasionally being allowed to stay and talk to her when she wasn't busy enough. Followed by more cleaning, then either spending time on the deck with the crew or by himself on the bow before sleeping and doing it all over again.

He got to chart the stars in a journal Jora had found shoved in a cabinet, and just rant out his thoughts. He got to become friends with more of the crew and why they'd chosen life on the high sea over life on land. No one had the same story, but they all had the same theme: Freedom.

Throughout his days, he got closer as well with Ariel's other two hands. Flounder took every opportunity he had to train Eric with various degrees of blades and sometimes pistols when Ariel agreed to let them use some ammo. Seb would usually watch, and it was during these off-times that Eric learned Seb wore glasses. He also noticed the hardened, and often quiet Quartermaster with his own array of rings and leather bracelets similar to Flounder's. It was shameful, honestly, how unobservant he could be.

Halfway through their second month, Eric was handing out salted pork and bread for lunch. The meat was growing a little tougher, but no one said a word about it. Jora did everything he could to make every meal edible so no one complained. They had it better than a lot of other crews and they knew it.

Ariel was sitting by herself in a rare moment of solidarity, cross-legged on a barrel as she observed her crew. Lately she had been less cold with him, and he didn't fail to notice how much Ariel studied him when she thought he wasn't looking. Like he was some kind of puzzle she couldn't crack.

"You looked vexed, dear maiden," he teased walking up to her with his empty tray. "What puzzles you so?"

She shrugged and leaned back on the railing. "Nothing, I'm just... Self-reflecting I guess. Appreciating."

He followed her gaze across the deck. There were a lot of small groups of crewmen eating and laughing together. They'd had wonderful weather the past few days, and everyone was in pretty good spirits. He'd been coaxed a few more times into playing the guitar at night, but he still refused to sing for them. Someone else, usually Ellias or a deckhand named Robbie with maroon hair, would take up the task.

Directly across from them though, who Ariel really looked at, were Seb and Flounder. They were crammed together on a trunk that shouldn't have fit one of them, bodies pressed together and heads bent towards each other.

After the event with the flags, Eric had begun to notice more how close they were. The way only Flounder could really get Seb to laugh. That Flounder only took what Seb (and sometimes Ariel) said seriously. That they usually ignored everyone and only had conversations with each other. Like right now, they were the only ones besides Eric and Ariel the crew left to talk in peace and quiet. Between bites of food, they shared smiles and laughs, touching each other's arm, shoulder, or leg.

"They're very close," he observed, tilting his head. "More so than some of the other men in the crew."

Ariel snorted and he looked at her, eyebrows raised. She seemed to be weighing something in her head before saying, "yes, they're mates."

"No, I understand that they're friends but like, none of the other crew get so close with each other."

Ariel narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes. Because they're mates."

"Are friends usually that close on pirate ships?" Eric asked, brows furrowed together.

She gave an exasperated sigh and pushed off the barrel, grabbing Eric's shoulder and pulling him across the deck towards her two friends. Seb was leaning on Flounder's thigh, trying to stab one of the carrots Jora had smuggled him when she tapped them on the shoulder.