(OOC: More fluff. I promise the plot will start to heat up soon, but for now I'm just trying to flesh out some character relationships. ^^ Please enjoy! By the way, your reviews are so sweet and honestly make my day. Thank you so much.)

Ally woke up the next morning before the majority of the rest of the crew did, rolling out of her hammock with a small grunt. She felt grimy, having slept in her clothes, but when she began digging in the trunk for more that she could mend a few others groaned and cursed, so she decided to just wait for Austin to give some to her later.

The air above deck was considerably less stuffy. The morning was gray, a thin fog drifting over the water. The mists curled and curved around her gently, cradling her in their embrace. She pulled her fingers through the air, delighted by the cool crispness of it. Despite everything, the ocean still calmed her, as it always had. She took a deep breath, smiling slightly at the smell of salt and sound of waves gently lapping at the sides of the ship.

"Quite a bit early for you to be up, lass," a voice behind her commented.

Ally spun around, startled, to see Cyril emerging from the fog like a ghost. She felt her back go rigid. She'd only been aboard a day, but something about the captain just demanded respect, and she couldn't help but automatically be obedient. His eyes were hard, cold, demanding. Even the most high-class citizens on St. Lucia were nothing compared to the man before her. They seemed far too gluttonous in comparison.

She shifted uncomfortably when he didn't continue. "Mornings started early in St. Lucia," she said timidly, avoiding his intense gaze.

"Didn't you have any rum last night? That should have taken care of that."

"I don't drink, sir," her voice was barely a whisper.

There was a short pause during which Cyril seemed to consider her. "Aye," he said finally. "I don't suppose you would."

He didn't continue, but he didn't go away, either. It made Ally uncomfortable. She kept waiting for a dismissal, but instead he simply stood, looking past her as if trying to spot something in the fog just over her shoulder. Eventually she shifted cautiously, and when he didn't say anything, she slowly made her way to the side of the ship, resting her hands on the smooth wood. He followed her and she remained tense, wondering what on Earth he wanted from her.

"It's a beautiful ship," she said at last, and then cringed at how stilted her voice sounded.

"A sorry lot of junk, she is," he contradicting immediately, but then his tone took up something that almost sounded like fondness. "But she's my lot of junk. I wouldn't trade her for the world."

"I've known men of great wealth to brag about ships far less than this one, sir," she said, leaning into the fog and breathing in deeply.

"She's a fine vessel to be aboard," Cyril agreed. "Even if you're something of a captive."

Ally dropped her gaze and didn't respond. He turned toward her. "Lass, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of the men aboard started off as captives."

"Why did they stay?" Immediately she realized how awful it sounded, and stumbled to apologize. "I mean - that's not to say - "

Cyril held up a hand. "I know what you meant, lass." He paused, seeming to consider her for a moment. "Some people prefer freedom. Living on the sea, there's no propriety. No rules. We live by the day, with no one telling us what to do."

"You say that as if polite society is no more shackles and chains," Ally commented.

At that, Cyril grinned crookedly. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps you're not." A pause as he leaned against the rail, his eyes closing. "After a while, the wealthy stop thinking them as chains and wear them around like fine jewelry. They forget the noose they wear until it's too late."

(we, the wicked, do not believe in empty lives.)

When Ally wasn't at dinner that night, Austin was surprised to feel a jolt of concern.

Dez noticed it almost immediately, and he grinned. "It's been two days, Austin. She doesn't need to be watched every minute anymore. Besides, where would she go?"

Austin frowned. "Some people on the crew are just as dangerous as these waters at night, especially to a pretty lass like her. Have you seen her?"

The taller boy jerked his head upward. "She said she'd keep watch while we ate."

Austin's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really? I'd better go up there, then. Make sure she doesn't fall asleep."

He turned on his heel, ignoring Dez's request to have all three of their meals as he expertly began to climb up to the crow's nest. It wasn't an easy thing to do, and he was mildly impressed that she'd managed. Then again, the hills in St. Lucia probably required just as much effort. The warm glow of the lanterns faded behind him, and he smiled when he saw her silhouette against the darkened sky as he swung into the nest beside her.

"Tired yet?"

She jumped, obviously startled, before placing one hand over her heart and pretending to glare at him accusingly. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Austin?" She tilted her chin up, nose in the air. "And I'll have you know, I'm doing just a fine job."

"Oh?" he raised one brow, amused. When she nodded, he laughed out loud. "Oh, don't give me that rubbish. Everyone knows that being on watch is more boring than watching grass grow."

Ally's face spread into a wide smile at that. "Not when you know what to look for." She tilted her head back. "And where to look, for that matter."

He glanced up, yet to be impressed. "The stars? They get old, after a while."

"Can you navigate by the stars?" she turned hopeful eyes on him, and for some reason he was suddenly very aware of how close they were. The crow's nest was, after all, only built for one. "Just like in the stories?"

Guilt bloomed in his chest. "Somewhat. I'm learning."

He expected her shoulders to sag in disappointment, but instead her eyes lit up in delight. "That's amazing! Maybe we can learn together. I've always wanted to be able to read the sky." She paused, once again gazing up at the glittering heavens. "There are all kinds of pictures that the ancient people used to trace out in the stars, but I like to make my own."

Austin smiled a little. "Like what?"

She pointed up at a cluster of stars, but he didn't even bother following her finger, instead keeping his eyes on her expression of wonder. "Those make a tree, if you tilt your head just right. And those over there make a flower."

Austin realized something then. Perhaps not consciously, but it was a realization, nonetheless.

If he could figure out a way to catch a star, just for her, he'd do it in a heartbeat.