The Guardians and their doors.

My Therapist says writing is good for me. Have I posted this art yet?

Murtagh looked up from Thorn, who was nestled on his shoulders when the lock on the door clicked and shuttered open.

"Hey. You alright?"

It was Josie, in full armor but she didn't seem angry or anxious for battle.

"Yes. What was all the commotion? I felt the ships disconnect."

"Yeah. Sorry about that. There was an eclipse and we were concerned for some cousins."

That made no sense but Murtagh was rapidly compiling a mental folder labeled Things to contemplate at a later date.

"Anyways, if you promise to behave and not try and escape or hurt anyone, you and Thorn can come up to the deck for some dinner and music. I imagine you miss the sky by now. I sure would."

Murtagh was stunned, which made Thorn nuzzle him in an attempt at comfort.

Go outside. The little dragon ordered his deep voice out of sorts with his kitten sized body. Take this opportunity while you can. I can smell meat!

Murtagh was forced to chuckle as the little dragon filled his mind with visions of simmering meat dishes, some from the kitchens in Uru baen, some from when Murtagh had killed and roasted a deer on the road and more recently the elegantly seasoned dishes that one of the crew made, his favorite by far being something Josie called "Bacon" while insisting turkey bacon was not real bacon, although Thorn cared little outside the fact that it was meat.

"Come on. We're missing out!" Josie coaxed. "I got you a change of clothes and everything. I didn't even prank you."

Murtagh felt besieged on all sides as he sighed. "Very well. Dreki minn og ég munum ekki valda öðrum farþegum Argo neinum vandræðum eða skaða fyrr en okkur er skilað aftur í herbergið okkar."

Josie blinked. "I would have accepted a pinky promise but that works."

Murtagh stifled a laugh. He had been blown away by their complex system of high and low standards for a while now and he was sure he would continually be caught off guard until the rider pair and the Argo crew parted ways.

Josie unchained him and left long enough for the rider to change into the fresh clothes, a soft red tunic, and fine black pants of unfamiliar material. 

Josie opened the door when he called, standing nearby in case his legs gave out as he emerged from the cell for the first time in a week.

While Murtagh had plenty of room to move and had been living in the most comfortable cell he had ever seen, he still hadn't walked very much.

Josie seemed to lead him on a meandering route, ending on a short flight of stairs leading onto the deck.

Murtagh was practically bowled over by the sheer volume of the partying crew, the smell of rich meats thick in the air and strange lights that reminded Murtagh of werelights, were strung amongst the riggings, twinkling like stars brought down to earth.

The other ships were decorated too. Some with strips of crinkled paper and the werelight strips in different colors.

The crew was in a mix of casual wear and full armor like Josie, and not a single villager was on the same ship as the rider, although he could see children playing on the far side of the fleet, doing something Josie would later call a 'conga line.'

There was music all around, played on instruments Murtagh had never seen before even in the royal courts.

"What's wrong?" Josie asked.

"I've never seen those instruments before. They sound beautiful."

"Oh. Okay, so the two in front are playing violins, and the brown-haired girl is playing the piano. The Apollo kids really like the violin, especially Davis and Stirling."

Thorn took off at that moment, flapping over to the buffet table and landing in a large tray of ribs.

Instead of the anger, Murtagh had feared, the plate was picked up and carried, dragon and all, to a separate table, the ribs replaced before the laughter had died down.

Someone started yelling and Murtagh's eyes were drawn to a blonde boy with some sort of glass contraption on his face, covering his eyes, yelling at a pair of boys the same age, both with brown curly hair.

At the blonde's feet was a crate that had obviously just been opened, filled with building bricks.

The first mate interrupted to pass the blonde a scroll, walking away before he read it.

"Annabeth!"

The first mate cackled, while the entire crew laughed.

"Cheers, Jason!"

"Another year, another brick!"

"Screw you all!" Jason, Murtagh presumed, yelled, but he no longer seemed angry, more exasperated.

Thorn burped, the ribs decimated and in the midst of being replaced, which made the little dragon purr with happiness.

"Come on, Murtagh. Dance with me!" Josie ordered, pulling the rider towards a clear area where both single dancers and couples did some sort of elaborate kick dance.

"The dance is front, front, back, back, front, side, tap, turn." Josie instructed, demonstrating the 'line dance' that was simultaneously more and less complicated than the court dances. "And repeat."

"Be careful not to overextend yourself." Will Solace, Murtagh's primary healer, said from where he was dancing with a man dressed in all black that made Murtagh's well hones flight or fight instincts scream, geared towards flight. "Let me know if anything cramps. Sitting still too long on someone as active as you isn't good."

"Yes, Healer," Murtagh said.

"It's Will. Or if you can't manage that, Solace."

"Yes, Healer Solace."

"He's more stubborn than Clarrisse, Will. Let it go." The black boy said. "Nico di Angelo."

"Murtagh Morzanson."

"Pleasure."

The couple vanished back into the crowd.

"Come on, Murtagh. Let's dance."

Murtagh actually found himself enjoying himself, even if Thorn burped and set someone on fire after his second round of ribs.

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I would say I'm sorry for taking so long to update but my therapist says I should be more truthful.

Ta, for now, your Tyrannical Overlord.