"M-my brother is dead? Kingsley?" Richard's bottom lip quivered as he quietly sat around the table in the ship's cabin. No one at the crowded and raucous dinner party seemed to pay him much attention, but Galavant heard his words clearly. It seemed like some kind of light went out around the king the moment the news reached his ears, as a black hole of despair began to open.

Everyone was too busy laughing and chattering away to pay him much mind though. After stopping at the nearest port to refill on supplies on the sixth day aboard the Jolly Seadog, the meal set before them was a lot better than the grub they'd been eating lately. And the conversation had been light and gleeful, with a few sea shanties shared amongst friends- until Lefty and Pete the Pirate had began talking of the rumors that they'd overheard when they went ashore.

Madalena had seized power after killing Kingsley with a dagger through his chest. Galavant never would have thought the simple farm girl he'd met in his village all those years ago would have the gall to go through with such a plot, but times were definitely changing and her malicious side was undeniable now.

Galavant had mistakenly laughed about how he heard the old man had finally been done in by his former flame, partly just to dull the stupidity he felt when thinking of her name. If another man could be killed by that woman, maybe he didn't have to feel so bad about only having his pride and heart wounded.

He also blamed the grog for the remark, the captain's brew was strong and went straight to his head. But now he was watching as Richard stood quietly and made his way out of the cramped quarters. Few of the pirates were sober enough to pay much attention to him but Galavant felt his own bravado plummet as he frowned into his drink. "And... I blew it."

Galavant waited a few moments after Richard left the room, wondering if he should go after the man or not. He partly felt it was his obligation since Gareth had appointed him the king's bodyguard until they arrived back in the king's own kingdom of Marseille. Galavant was sworn to protect him, but whether that included both his physical and emotional wellbeing, he wasn't quite sure.

Still, this past week aboard the ship with Richard, they'd grown a little closer- as much as any two former enemies could allow themselves to get to each other. There weren't so many death threats anymore. They had even stopped trying to throw each other overboard by the second day. Maybe Richard wasn't quite a friend yet, but he was still able to inflict some kind of awful nagging feeling in Galavant somehow. It felt kind of like guilt. He hated guilt.

Leaving the pirates behind as their conversation turned to their own tales of yore and battles they'd fought and won on the high seas, Galavant headed off to find Richard. He felt the boat swaying on the current as all the alcohol he'd been drinking finally hit his brain. He could hear the sound of loud sobbing coming from the deck above and grimaced as he realized he was going to have to handle that. There was just not enough alcohol on this entire ship to make it through this trip with Richard with his sanity intact. The man was a complete and utter self-absorbed child.

Though, perhaps Galavant should have realized that despite everything Kingsley was still Richard's brother and that crack about how Valencia would finally have something to smile about was going a teeny tiny wee bit too far.

He placed his hand on the wall of the tightened hallway that led to the main stairs leading to the deck above, struggling to find his balance as the waves crashed against the boat. It lurched and he felt himself pulled along with each rocking motion.

He wondered, not for the first time, if perhaps he should give up on drinking. The only time he really enjoyed it anymore was when it made Isabella's pretty brain seem to explode all over her face. The whole world glowed when she was around- he frowned, still thinking of his far-away love when there were important bromance things to attend to right now. She wormed her way in to his heart and now he was just going to have to be stuck happily thinking of her day in and day out now.

He followed the sounds of sniffling until he reached the main deck of the ship. Richard was standing alone, looking out over the black water and moonlit sky. He was holding onto the side railing of the ship and looked every bit like a lost little kid. So lost and so very alone.

A salty breeze blew through Galavant's hair as he joined the king and leaned on the railing, catching himself before he fell overboard. He was definitely not sober enough for the conversation that apparently needed to happen.

"Richard, I.." Galavant began after swallowing his pride. "I know we don't really get along, but..."

"I should have your head for that joke you made about my brother." Richard threatened. Galavant could feel the king glaring at him, but he was too busy trying not to fall over the side of the boat with each rock of the gentle waves. This was the floating part of being drunk that he usually enjoyed, the slight buzz- but he was certain with just one wrong move he'd be face first in the water. "Mark my words, you're finally getting executed! I'm not backing out on it this time, oh no, I'm really gonna do it. Like for really reals."

"Well, you could do that," Galavant nodded, "but then you're stuck with those nasty pirate people who give you tummy cramps. Your words."

All the fight went out of Richard as he seemed to ponder over this dilemma. He would be no use against the pirates if they decided to shanghai him or do something just as devious. Gareth was wise when he'd chosen Galavant as his protector. Richard's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "Fine. You're right. I need you. Are you happy?"

"I won't be happy until this trip is over," Galavant muttered, but Richard thankfully did not hear him. The other man was too lost in his own grief to care about Galavant's remarks. Louder, he asked Richard, "But, now hear me out, I thought you were okay with Kingsley being murdered? We were going to do him in right before we left the castle. Why all the dramatics now?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "You're one of those weird only children so you wouldn't know what it's like to have a brother."

"How do you know I'm an only child?"

"Oh, I keep tabs." Richard replied, nonchalantly as if it were the most normal thing in the world as Galavant just mouthed the word 'stalker' to himself. "But no, you don't understand- me and Kingsley have been trying to kill each other for decades now. It's just a bit of sibling rivalry between brothers, good ol' chums trying to stab each other in the back. It's just playful fun. Kinda like us."

Galavant nearly fell over as Richard nudged him. His eyebrows furrowed at the idea of this trip and alliance being anything but tedious. "This is fun for you?"

Richard ignored that question and continued his explanation. "We're just frenemies, me and my brother. I wasn't really going to kill him before. I just wanted to scare him a little. You know, a little like.. argh... like that." He gestured with a fake ax and gave a laugh, but then his face fell once more. "But then that woman had to come along and ruin it all. Madalena is such a bitch!"

Galavant nodded. They'd been through this the first couple of days they were stuck on this buddy journey together- the long nights of trying to get Richard to sleep after many conversations about being burnt by the same woman. At least now Richard could sleep through the night without waking Galavant up with his heaving sobs. It was almost worse than Isabella's snoring. Why wouldn't anyone just let him sleep these days?

"But, no, no, I'm not going there. Madalena is in the past." Richard sliced his hand through the air in front of him, ushering all thoughts of his ex-wife away. Then his eyes began to tear up once again and he couldn't help himself from ending up in a fit of crying. "But she... why did she... oh god, Kingsley! Madalena will pay for this... oh, I wish Gareth was here."

And just like that, Richard wrapped his arms around Galavant's neck and cried into his shoulder. As drunk as he was by now, Galavant couldn't escape the man's hold on him. "And now we're hugging... why are we hugging?"

"Oh, please just hold me." The king said melodramatically. He was beginning to soak through Galavant's shirt with his big manly tears. "This life is just too hard. I can't bare it anymore. Everyone I know leaves me in the end."

"There, there?" Galavant patted the other man on the shoulder as they hugged, pretty sure this was the oddest situation he'd gotten himself into in the past few weeks. He frowned and rubbed the king on his back, waiting for the other man to get a hold of himself. "It'll be okay? Gareth will figure out a way to get back to Marseille when Madalena's back is turned and he'll come back for you..." Galavant's voice dropped to a whisper that only he and his growing frustrations could hear. "and I will be somewhere else, not being hugged by a forty-five year old man child."

Bobby Rattlebones, one of the pirates Galavant was becoming familiar with during their long journey, passed by and saw the two men hugging. He smirked but said nothing, obviously thinking there was something else going on between the two out there under the beautiful moonlit sky. Galavant glared at him, but he held up his hands and shrugged. "Hey, I don't judge."

Galavant rolled his eyes and then turned back to Richard. What he would do to rid this man from his life someday soon, but for now he would try to do his best to uphold his promise to Gareth and take good care of him. "Richard? Are you- are you going to be okay? I'm gonna let go now and we're gonna stand up like two adult, grown men now, okay?"

Richard rubbed his snotty nose on Galavant's shirt and mumbled something akin to a yes. Galavant shook his head at the thought of yet another shirt ruined by this man's sniveling.

"Okay and a one, and a two, and three." Galavant broke away from the hug and then clasped his hands on Richard's shoulder's again. "Good, now, I'm okay, and you're okay and we're not hugging anymore. Good. This is good progress."

Finally, Richard spoke again in a quiet little embarrassed voice. He sounded just like a little boy who'd gotten his hand caught in the cookie jar. "I'm sorry I said I was going to execute you."

"Which time?" Galavant joked.

Richard jut his thumb behind him. "Just a few minutes ago."

"So all the other times?"

"No, I'm okay with those- you had them coming to you." Richard nodded, after pausing to think about it for a moment. Galavant nodded, that was fair enough. The king sighed and a new seriousness came over him. "My brother's really dead. What am I going to do now?"

Galavant resisted his first urge, which was to say to throw a party. He never really liked anyone in the king's family, let alone the man who had gotten them into this mess by threatening to force Richard and Gareth to duel to the death. Instead, he looked off in the direction the boat was traveling, grabbing one of the robes of a nearby sail and leaned on it. "You are going to return to your home in Marseille, stop being a prat and become the king that that kingdom needs. The king that Kingsley could never have been. You'll be a legend and your name will be written down in history books."

Richard starred down at his shoes, then finally said. "I don't know how."

"Well," Galavant laughed. "If you stop trying to execute everyone you meet, it may go a long way to becoming a great leader. Stop all the pillaging and plundering and definitely stop stealing anyone's girlfriends-"

"Yeah, that went terribly for me." Richard agreed, nodding his head emphatically.

Galavant put his hand on Richard's shoulder once more and spoke with the enthusiasm of a hero. "After that, I think you'll be able to pull off being the king quite easily. I have faith in you- well, maybe about fifty percent faith in you, which is still saying a lot considering."

"Really?" Richard beamed. His parents never believed in him and neither did Madalena. The peasants and villagers thought he was a buffoon. Gareth did occasionally believe in him, but again that was only about fifty percent of the time. Other than his best friend there really was no one else, not until this very moment. "Wow, Galavant, I'm-"

Suddenly, the boat swayed deeply with a coming wave and Galavant finally lost the war against his drunkenness. He also lost his dinner, all over the king's shoes. He laughed despite himself; this was proper payback for the king ruining his shirt with all his crying.

"God damn it, Galavant. That's it! Once we get back to Marseille, your head is going on a pike to decorate my throne room." King Richard declared, scrapping the putrid vomit off on the nearby wooden crate on the deck. He turned and began to stomp off, going back to his same old self rather easily. And the moment was gone.

Galavant grinned dopily, then wiped his mouth on his bare arm. He shrugged, content with the fact that the conversation was over. "Could have gone worse."

.End.