Keep knees bent. Feet light. One foot forward at all times. Parry. Parry. Thrust left. Thrust right. Angle diagonally but don't lose your grip. Keep your fingers loose. The deck of the Fox Hole felt rough under Arnold's bare feet as he moved. The wooden sword in his hand was surprisingly heavy. But he tried to keep Curly and Harold's tips in mind. After their run in with the Spanish Merchant ship, they had taken it upon themselves to train him in sword play. Edmund was his current sparring partner now. Arnold never interacted with him much before but he quickly found out that he was fast, both in sword play and his foot work. He did seem to at least be trying to slow his regular pace though, allowing Arnold enough space and time to move and react.

Edmund swung down and Arnold raised his weapon to parry but the force nearly knocked it out of his hand.

"You're grip is still too tight," Edmund said in a low voice, "Keep your wrist loose so you can flow with the movements. Got it?"

"G-got it," Arnold was having a hard time taking notes while the sparring match continued. Heck, he was having a hard time breathing while sparring. What happened with the merchant ship had to be nothing but adrenaline. Years of sitting at a desk had taken its toll on his physique and his endurance. But he wasn't going to give up.

Keeping his stance loose, Arnold moved left, swing low right. Edmund stumbled back, trying to avoid the swing giving Arnold the opportunity to land a glancing blow to his hip. He felt a brief surge of triumph but had to temper it down because Edmund recovered quickly and the match was still on. There was no mistaken the cheering on the sidelines though. That was definitely in his favor.

"You losers call that fighting?" A nasty voice cut above the cheers.

Wolfgang emerged from below deck, smirking. Arnold swallowed in nervousness but straightened up as he calmly walked over to them. By the wicked gleam in his eyes though, Arnold could tell that Wolfgang meant no good.

"Hand over your sword, Edmund," He demanded with his hand out, "Let me show the governor how a real man fights."

Edmund, of course, obeyed him, but at least had the decency to look uncomfortable, "Hey, maybe go easy on him? He's just now learning this stuff."

Wolfgang scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Ain't my fault he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Besides, he could use some humbling."

Edmund shot Arnold a brief sympathetic look before smirking as well, "Yeah, he needs to be humbled."

Arnold didn't give them the satisfaction of responding. He took a half step away from Wolfgang, resetting his fighting stance, and hoped that he wouldn't get humbled too badly.

"I'm ready when you are," He informed his new opponent.

"Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on."

But Wolfgang didn't keep his own advice, stripping off his shirt and tossing it to the side. He then took his time stretching and cracking each knuckle of each hand, making sure every muscle of his chest and arms bulge. The only reason that Arnold could see why he was going through this regiment was for the sole purpose of intimidating him. And it was working. Wolfgang was literally twice his size and most certainly had more than twice the skills and experience. Arnold quickly glanced around, checking for and not finding the person he was looking for. Well, since she weren't around, maybe there was no shame in backing out now...

"Thinking about chickening out?" Wolfgang snickered, "I'm not surprised. A milk fed sap like you wouldn't stand a chance anyway."

Arnold's jaw clenched, his determination coming back in full, "Like I said, ready when you are."

Wolfgang laughed and suddenly lunged forward with a loud shout. Arnold barely had time to jump back and parry the blow. Wolfgang wasted no time in delivering a backhanded swipe which came a little too close to Arnold's face for his liking.

"Hey!"

"Stop whining and learn to dodge!"

Not only was Wolfgang strong but he was fast. He normally fought with two swords but Arnold quickly learned that he was just as skilled at single sword combat. Wolfgang swung down left and swung up right, making Arnold nearly dance to avoid the blows. He tried to counter with a few swings of his own but Wolfgang managed to either block them or dodge them easily.

"You're so pathetic," Wolfgang swung at him again with more force than was probably necessary. "I bet you've never held a real sword before."

"I haven't," Arnold grumbled. He didn't know why Wolfgang was so persistent in trying to injure or humiliate him. Well, he could guess why but he didn't exactly have the opportunity to confirm his theory. He also couldn't afford to get distracted if his theory was indeed correct.

"Come on governor, show him what you're made of!" Curly cheered.

"Yeah, you don't want Wolfgang to make you look like a sissy do you?" Harold laughed.

Arnold grit his teeth and tried to ignore the jeering on the sidelines. Thinking of his muse, he dodged to the side as Wolfgang swung down again, spun in a tight circle avoiding another blow, ending up behind Wolfgang. And using the momentum and the speed, swung his wooden sword as hard as he could and hit Wolfgang square in the center of his back. The crew of onlookers went wild.

"He got him! That pansy governor actually got Wolfgang!" Harold shook his fist triumphantly in the air.

"That's our lord! La victoire! La victoire!" Curly echoed.

"I ain't dead yet!" Wolfgang yelled at them, shaking a fist threateningly, "It was only a flesh wound!"

But that's when Arnold heard it. A giggle so soft that it was almost carried away by the breeze. A smile spread across Arnold's face before he could stop it and by the sudden angry flush in Wolfgang's face, he could tell that he had heard it too. Without warning, Wolfgang delivered a harsh thrust that hit Arnold directly in the thick bandages of his wounded shoulder. Arnold hissed in pain and lost his focus for a moment. He was then struck across the jaw by Wolfgang's fist, colliding with the wooden deck painfully.

The crew burst into cheers again, their loyalty capricious and easily swayed. But even as Arnold laid there on the deck, nursing his sore jaw and Wolfgang gloating above him, a light feeling fluttered in his stomach. Because laying on the ground and staring up past Wolfgang, he could see Helga smirking down at him. She was once again sitting on the cross beams of one the shorter masts, looking down at them in mild amusement. Arnold smiled and attempted a sheepish wave. She responded by rolling eyes and looking elsewhere.

But suddenly, a cry came from the crow's nest, "Land ho!"

Wolfgang's victory was swiftly forgotten as everyone crowded the railing trying to see up front. There were excited cheers from everyone but Arnold felt a curious nausea. His head felt like it was buzzing. Land. Civilization. Another port or maybe a town. Was he about to witness another brutal attack on an unsuspecting town? Or would he be able to... escape?

"Alright you sea dogs, man your docking stations!" Captain Roth emerged from his quarters, his ever-present ax strapped to his side, "Helga! Come secure your captive before we go on shore!"

"Why bother?" Helga called down defiantly, "It's not like he's going anywhere!"

Captain Roth frowned at her insubordination and before Arnold had a chance to react or run away, the captain snatched him up by the collar and hefted him up until his feet barely touched the ground.

"Would ye rather I lock him in the brig for ye, and ye be responsible for him here?" Captain Roth yelled giving Arnold a rough shake.

"Ugh! Fine!"

Helga grabbed an untethered rope and used it to swing down until her feet were on deck, again. She then used her dagger to cut a length of rope, stomped over to them, and made a show of angrily tying it around Arnold's wrists, binding him yet again.

"There, happy now, captain?" She snapped.

Captain Roth glared at her and for a minute Arnold was afraid she'd gone too far. But the captain's expression suddenly changed to one of good humor. He bellowed out a loud laugh and feigned a swing at her which she easily dodged.

"Girly, if I didn't like that fire you had, I'd keelhaul you myself!" He laughed, "I don't know how my son puts up with ye!"

"He doesn't" Helga grumbled and gave a sharp tug on Arnold's rope, "Come on my lord, I have to get something from my cabin before we go ashore."

Arnold obediently nodded (even though he had no choice) and found himself hoping that once alone in her room, they would have an opportunity to... talk. But to his dismay, she brought him over to Curly and dropped his rope in his hands.

"Watch him," she ordered curtly before leaving again.

"M-my lady!" Arnold tried calling after her, but she only disappeared below deck. Before he could stop it, a forlorn sigh escaped his lips.

"Easy lover boy," Curly chuckled, "Our lady will return shortly. No need to get your silken undergarments in a bunch."

Arnold stuttered an instant denial but could feel his face warm. Instead of meeting Curly's teasing smirk, he chose to lean over the railing and watch the strip of land come steadily closer. As the docks came into focus, he immediately noticed some key differences between his port and this new one. Port Hillwood's docks were kept meticulously, the wooden planks scrubbed clean and constantly manned. The ships were moored securely and ranged from large naval ship to smaller merchant vessels. This dock looked in complete disarray. The docks themselves were filthy looking with several bottles of rum and garbage floating in the water below. The ships moored there looked in no better shape. Arnold noticed with a sinking feeling in his stomach that more than a few of them had unfamiliar insignias on their sails. And the closer they got the more Arnold could see that this town was nothing that he'd ever seen before.

"Welcome to Pirate Haven," Curly grandly announced what Arnold was afraid of, "Our affectionate name for this humble little port."

"So, this is Port Providence," Arnold repressed a shudder, "I've only read reports about its um... troublesome population."

"You mean how it's home to liars, thieves, and murderers?"

"Yeah, that."

As the ship drew closer to port, the Fox Hole crew busied themselves more and more. Empty barrels were brought up as well as some of their hordes from the armed merchant ship they took down earlier. The only consolation Arnold felt was that they didn't seem to be preparing for an attack. The Fox Hole nearly crashed into the docks and only then did Captain Roth give the call to drop anchor. There was no one at the dock to receive them so a few pirates dropped down into the water with ropes to tie the ship down. The gangplank was lowered. A few of the older crew members stayed on board for watch, but most of them left the ship in groups. Harold, Brian, Wolfgang, and Edmund practically raced down the gangplank, yelling and jostling each other good heartedly. Curly let go of Arnold's rope and raced after them, jumping onto Harold's back.

"Animals, they're all animals." Helga stepped up beside him, now with something wrapped up, strapped to her back. She took up his rope again, "Come on my lord, let's go."

"Yes, my lady."

As soon as Arnold stepped on to the dock though, he felt the wooden boards shift under his feet. He felt the curious, nauseous feeling of the ground bobbing underneath him. His second step he lost his footing again and bumped into Helga. He tensed, waiting for her angry retaliation but she only chuckled and grabbed him under his elbow to steady him.

"Someone's lost their land legs," she laughed, her blue eyes twinkling, "What's the matter governor, we kept you on the ship too long?"

"It... feels like the ground is moving," Arnold took a few cautious steps forward with her support. His knees still felt shaky but his steps were becoming steadier each step. It got to a point where he no longer needed her support, but he didn't move away from her either. He couldn't help but think that maybe, as long as they were here already, they might end up taking a stroll together properly. Like a true gentleman and lady.

"Aw, teaching your pet how to walk?"

Arnold's hopes were immediately dashed when he noticed that Harold, Curly, Wolfgang, and Edmund were waiting for them. The guys were snickering at Harold's joke but Helga only rolled her eyes.

"Yeah and if I could only teach you how to cook." She shot back.

"Hey! I can cook!" Harold yelled.

"Nothing edible," Wolfgang grumbled.

"Well, I think it's pretty good," Arnold shrugged, "certainly more flavorful than what we have back home."

There was a beat of surprised silence before Harold gave a vindicated shout, "Ha! The governor likes my food! Which means my cooking is good enough to feed royalty!"

"Technically Harold, I'm not royalty."

"And as an actual royal," Curly put in with a flourish of his wrist, "I can say with certainty that your food is not fit for our royal personage."

Helga scoffed, "Curly if you're royalty then I'm the Duchess of Milan."

Curly met her sneer with a wide smile and swept her an exaggerated bow, "How do, your highness?"

As the five of them walked through the port, the rough housing and playful teasing continued. Arnold watched the exchange with fascination as Wolfgang playfully cuffed Curly across the shoulder. Brian held on tight to Curly's jacket and looked around him in excitement. These six pirates, whom Arnold had witnessed time and time again as nearly heartless and blood thirsty, were acting like... old friends. Aside from Gerald, Arnold had never really associated with people his own age so, the sight was rare. His position had even sometimes caused a slight air of formality between himself and Gerald that he tried to ignore. But casting a quick look at himself, Arnold realized that he had nothing to fear with these pirates. He was wearing their clothes; his own had been too blood soaked from his injury. His hands were calloused and peeling and his skin was growing tan from being in the sun all day. As side from the ropes around his wrists, he could almost pass for one of them.

"That's what I'm talking about," Wolfgang suddenly whooped and gestured to one of the buildings. Drunken men staggered out, rough men laughed outside and heavily made up women flirted with both. "First round is on me boys. Think you can keep up with me this time?"

Arnold thought the question was directed at him, but Wolfgang's eyes were on Helga.

"Hm, tempting but I got errands to run. Curly, make sure Brian doesn't sneak any rum again. If he vomits, you're cleaning it up."

Without even bothering to ask him, not that she needed to, Helga pulled Arnold after her as she walked away. Arnold on his part tried to contain his happiness and nervousness. It was the first time they had been alone together in a while. Then again, there was always a flutter in his stomach whenever he was around her. The package on her back bounced against her shoulder blades as she walked. Her steps seemed faster than usual, bouncy even. And was it him or was there a hint of a smile on her lips? Arnold could hope it was because she was with him, but it seemed to have to do more with whatever their destination was.

"You know, you did a real number on my sword," Helga broke the silence first, and her eyes flickered over to him teasingly. "I noticed the guys have been teaching you sword play. Too little too late don't you think my lord?"

"It's never too late to learn anything my lady," Arnold smiled, "the training will allow me to better protect you next time we have an unpleasant run in."

Helga's gaze immediately hardened, "Who said there'll be a next time?"

"W-well," the sudden shift in her tone made him immediately wary, "as you keep reminding me, my lady, you're pirates. I assume that sort of thing happens often."

"It does," Helga's steps seemed to quicken and she looked straight ahead. "Who said you'd be with us next time?"

Arnold moved in front of her, trying to force her to stop and look at him. She was looking at him, but she kept walking, forcing him to walk backwards. Her gaze was steely but there was something deeper within it as well. Fear? Hope?

"Do you want me to be?" He asked, "Would you like me to stay your captive?"

The words left his mouth before he had a chance to think them over but it was too late to take them back. Helga scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I call your bluff, my lord. You're just a milk fed, lily livered, shark bait. You wouldn't last with us."

"I've been lasting so far haven't I?"

She must have been purposely steering him the entire time he was walking backwards, because the next thing Arnold knew they were in an abandoned alleyway. Helga smiled that was half smirk and half sneer and pushed his back hard against the wall with her forearm. Arnold stared at her and swallowed hard.

"You've only lasted because we've been going easy on you," Helga said in a low voice, almost a purr, "remember this?"

She purposely pressed against his bandage with the side of her wrist causing him to hiss a little in pain. He noticed that she wasn't pressing as hard as she could have though.

"Why are you doing this?" He grunted, staring her down. He had the same dizzying feeling that he always got staring into her eyes.

"To remind you that you aren't one of us," Helga pressed a little harder before releasing the pressure. "I know you think that you're having fun on this little vacation from your precious responsibilities but in the end, we both know you'd go back to your real life tomorrow if you had a chance."

A sudden realization dawned on Arnold as well as a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. She was right. In a way, Arnold would go back to Hillwood if he could. But he knew he could no longer be content to live the same life he was living. There was more he wanted now.

"Is that why you're doing this my lady?" He couldn't help but tease her, but his words were sincere "Are you afraid I'll leave you?"

The sharp sound of metal being pulled out of its leather sheath was his only warning before Arnold felt the cold steel of her knife against his cheek. Helga's cheeks were flushed but her eyes were furious. Arnold cast a quick look around, wondering if he could call for help if he needed to, but there was no one.

"I don't care what you do," Helga growled.

Arnold took a breath and looked her in the eyes, "My lady, I'm afraid I have to call your bluff now. I think you care very much what I do."

There. The stone wall of her expression fell for a split second but Arnold was so close to her that the second was all he needed to read her. His life was still very much in danger though. The steel returned to her eyes and the pressure against his cheek didn't lessen. The safest choice was silence but he was tired of the safe route.

"Do you think of me, Helga?" He whispered, her name sweet on his lips, "more than you care to admit?"

Her eyes went wide and Arnold was suddenly afraid that he went a step too far.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance."

In the next instant her lips were on his. Demanding, bruising, and unrelenting. Arnold's eyes shut in unadulterated, heart pounding bliss. He sighed, partially out of relief and partially out of happiness, and kissed her back. A soft mewl escaped her and Arnold wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her but with the rope restraining him, he had to settle for moving his lips avidly against her. Opening his heart to her, and sharing everything unsaid between them with the contact of their lips.

But all too soon Helga pulled away.

"Je suis une idiot!" She whispered savagely under her breath, shaking her head vigorously. She re-sheathed her dagger and stepped away from him. "That- didn't just happen."

Arnold wanted to be hurt, wanted to be offended, but he could still feel the pressure of her lips against his that completely contradicted the words she was actually saying. He couldn't entirely blame her denial and her anxiousness though. He knew they were from two different worlds, were two completely different people. But he couldn't deny whatever he was feeling. And the way Helga had kissed him told him that she felt something too.

"I don't mean to distress you, my lady," He spoke gently and took a cautious step towards her. "But... you should know that I hold great affection for you. And no matter what happens, I do not regret the night your people took me captive."

His words were as sincere and as honest as he could make them. Helga went still as she seemed to absorb his words. He waited breathlessly for her reaction. It felt like the first time he took a chance and kissed her. Like he had one foot dangling off the edge of a cliff waiting to fall into the water below. Unfortunately, nothing had come of Arnold's bravery when Brian returned to the room and shattered the tension between them. This time though, they were completely alone and there was no chance of interruption.

But instead of saying anything or having any reaction, Helga merely took up his rope and got him walking again.

"Come on," she spoke softly, not looking at him, "it's just around the corner."

Arnold felt his heart sink but he tried one final gesture. He stepped up next to her and took her hand in his as they walked. Helga didn't say anything, didn't slow her steps, but he felt her hesitantly squeeze his hand before letting go again. They remained silent as they exited the alley way and walked through the rough cobblestoned streets. Her steps quickened when they reached their destination, a blacksmith. The name Heyerdahl hung from a sign out front. Arnold opened the door for her with a small bow and Helga shook her head with a laugh. They were immediately greeted with a wave of smoky heat. A circular stone fire hearth resided in the center where a small leather-masked figure was feeding the massive fire with wood and air from a bellows. A small bell jingled when the door opened causing the figure to look up and gasp.

"Helga?" The figure's voice was surprisingly feminine.

Helga laughed and held out her arms, "the one and only."

The figure let out an even higher pitched squeal and quite literally leapt into Helga's arms. Now that Arnold's eyes had adjusted to the smoky gloom, he could see that the figure was small, more than a head shorter than Helga, petite and definitely a girl. And he also couldn't help but notice that this was the only person he had ever seen Helga hug.

"Long time no see, Phoebe," Helga pulled away from the hug and nodded towards Arnold, "there's someone I want you to meet."

The girl, Phoebe, lifted her protective leather mask off her face and peered at Arnold with piercing black eyes.

"Um, hello," Arnold gave her a polite nod, "My name is gov- Arnold. I'm a... friend of Helga's."

"Huh," Phoebe's eyes travelled down to his wrists and her mouth twitched up in a smile, "I can tell."

Arnold followed her gaze to his bound wrists and cringed at his embarrassing oversight and haste. It was worth it though to hear Helga laugh, even at his expense, and clap her friend on the shoulder.

"So, where's mom and dad?" She asked looking around, "Are they up front at the shop or in the back."

"Mother went to the docks to check on a shipment of supplies and father went to make some deliveries. I'm watching the shop and the smithy at the moment," Phoebe answered but didn't take her eyes off Arnold, "you know, I don't think you've ever brought anyone to meet me before besides Brian. And you don't even like bringing him into town."

"As you can see, I'm responsible for him," Helga gave a mock look of irritation and tugged on Arnold's rope. "Got anything to eat? I'm starving."

"I'll fix some tea."

Phoebe finally stopped staring at Arnold and lead them upstairs. Arnold looked back and forth between them as they talked to each other, mostly ignoring him now. Phoebe was small with shoulder length black hair and had pale skin beneath the patches of black soot all over her face. She smiled constantly though and her eyes glittered with excitement and happiness as she listened to Helga tell her about Arnold accidental kidnapping. If not for the fact that they looked nothing alike, Arnold could have assumed they were sisters.

Upstairs Phoebe led them into a living area above the smithy with old and exotic looking furnishings including varies swords and weaponry. There was also a low table, but instead of chairs, there were cushions placed around it.

"Please be seated," Phoebe gave them a graceful straight-backed bow, "I will close the shop and return momentarily with refreshments."

"Thanks, Pheebs," Helga called after her and collapsed lazily onto one of the cushions. She rose an eyebrow at Arnold as he stood there awkwardly, "What are you waiting for? Sit down."

"Um, of course," He shifted awkwardly though, trying to find the most dignified way of sitting on the floor.

Helga made an impatient noise and gave him a swift, yet gentle kick in the legs sending him toppling down.

"Ow!" He yelped and gave her a dry look, "Thanks,"

She only laughed and shrugged off the package on her back. She looked relaxed and lazy but the twitching of her fingers and the shifting of her eyes told her that she was nervous.

"You and Phoebe seem like good friends," he spoke to break the tension, "have you known each other long?"

"Years." Helga looked at him and smiled, "I lived with the Heyerdahls for some time before I joined the Fox Hole."

Arnold nodded, taking note of the fact that she was willingly giving him a free piece of her life, but trying not to betray the elation he felt. "She definitely seemed happy to see you."

"I miss it here sometimes," Helga looked around her with a smile, "I love them to death but their lifestyle is just a little too tame for my taste."

Arnold nodded again more than loving the fact that she was opening up to him like this. Too soon, Phoebe returned again with a tray loaded with a hot pot of tea, cups, and bread.

"Here, let me help you with that," Arnold jumped up and despite his bound wrists, he took the tray from Phoebe and carried it to the table for her.

Phoebe smiled in approval and sat down next to Helga, "He sure is a gentleman."

"I know, it's so annoying," Helga feigned another kick at him as he began pouring them tea. "You don't know how many times I've threatened him but he never turns it off. And unfortunately, he's the reason why this isn't a social visit."

With that, Helga reached behind her and placed her package on the table. Phoebe gave her a confused look but gasped when she opened it. It was Helga's sword, cut in two. Only a few inches of the blade remained attached to the hilt.

"W-what happened to it!?" Phoebe's soft voice went up several octaves. She looked at him across the table and he jumped at the sudden fire in her eyes. "Did you do this?"

"I-I..." He sputtered and looked to Helga for help but she only snickered, "I was protecting her!"

"By using my sword to block a broadsword!"

"He what!?" Phoebe's face was now completely red with fury, "You- you don't just take a O grade, specially crafted, katana blade with a double edge and saber and use it to block a broadsword. What were you thinking!?"

"I-I..."

"This is how you use it."

She moved faster than Arnold could see. All he felt was a cool breeze and the ropes around his wrist fell off, cut clean through. His jaw dropped and Phoebe smiled at him, the hilt remainder of Helga's sword still in her hand.

"I apologize for losing my temper," Phoebe's soft-spoken demeanor returned as she rewrapped the remains of the sword, "We Heyerdahls take our craft very seriously. Not everyone gets the privilege of wielding one of our custom-made swords."

"Told you so," Helga shot him a smug smile.

Arnold resisted the childish urge to stick his tongue out at her in return.

"In any case, the blade will have to be replaced completely," Phoebe continued, "but it is doable. It'll take some time though."

"We have a few days," Helga suddenly stood up, "I actually have an errand to run across the street. Mind watching him for me? I'd hate for him to get loose and make a mess."

Phoebe nodded her consent and Helga got up from the table. She patted Arnold on the head teasingly as she walked past him and he brushed her hand away, blushing. When he turned back to the table, he found Phoebe watching him with a smile, her chin in her hands.

"You two seem quite close," she noted with a twinkle in her eyes, "Helga seems quite fond of you."

Arnold chuckled sheepishly, remember both the kiss and her refusal to acknowledge it. He admitted with a sigh, "I'm sure she's only amused by me."

"I'm quite sure it's more than that," Phoebe insisted, "You noticed that she didn't bring Brian along to meet me. You think that perhaps she wanted to spend some time with you?"

Arnold could feel his face warm and a smile grow on his face. He had been hoping that was the case but her mixed signals still had him wary. He hoped Phoebe was right, but without a proper conversation between them, he couldn't be sure. But more pressing, he didn't know where they should go from here.

"But I must warn you of one thing," Phoebe's eyes hardened and her smile became dangerous, "If you hurt her, I'll take this sword and emasculate you myself."

"Phoebe darling, are you up there?" A voice called from downstairs.

"Yes mother," Phoebe's smile returned as she stood up, "Govenor Arnold, may I introduce you to my parents?"

His smile was a little shakier than hers but he nodded and allowed her to lead him downstairs. The Heyerdahls were wary of him at first, him being a governor and them making their business on associating with pirates which was a criminal offense almost as severe as piracy itself. But once Phoebe assured them that he was in no position to persecute them, they became as polite as their daughter. That is to say, they treated Arnold politely but with the subtle understanding that if he made a false or threatening move, they were more than capable of ending his life. When Helga returned they greeted her like a long-lost daughter making her look both sheepish and uncomfortable making Arnold laugh to see Helga squirm at their open display of affection. Mrs. Heyerdahl nearly had the same reaction as his daughter when he saw Helga's damaged sword, but his wife Reba assured Arnold that it was fixable. While Phoebe warmed up the heath again Helga spent time retelling the story of Arnold's accidental capture as well as the storm they endured and their run in with the Spanish merchant ship.

"So, if you can fix it as soon as you can that'd be great," Helga glanced out of the window and stood, "Thanks for the grub but we have to get going. I need to make sure my fellow crew members haven't killed my ward."

"Oh, but darling, you just got here," Reba pulled her into a tight hug, "can't you at least stay the night?"

"Loved to Reba but can't," Helga gently detangled herself from Reba's arms, "come on governor, let's go."

Arnold stood up and offered them all a bow, "It was a pleasure meeting all of you."

"The pleasure was ours, my lord," Mr. Heyerdahl returned his bow, "If you would like, perhaps you will permit me to teach you proper swords play. I am the one who taught Helga."

"Th-that be great thank you," Arnold felt genuine surprise at his generosity.

"You could use the help," Helga laughed and grabbed his arm pulling him along, "Come on my lord, there's one more person I want you to meet."

The streets were nearly completely dark by now, but more alive. Heavily made up women whistled at them from darkened doorways. Loud music and rambunctious yelling came from orange lit windows. It wasn't exactly the most romantic atmosphere but Arnold still enjoyed walking with Helga, feeling her arm brush against his. She walked him to the building Wolfgang and the others went in earlier. The tavern was the loudest one yet and most of the Fox Hole crew were inside. Curly and Edmund were in the middle of a drinking contest with Edmund looking like he was one the losing end. Harold was currently on the third plate of mutton at his own table and in the corner Wolfgang was flirting with a busty brunette in his lap. There was a quite rasping sound and suddenly Brian was next to Helga smiling up her happily.

"Come on," Helga grabbed Arnold's hand and began leading him to an unoccupied table, "I'll but you drink, my lord. Best brewed ale in town."

The three of them sat down but before she could hail a waitress, another high-pitched squeal cut through the air. "Helga!"

"Oh no," Helga blushed and laughed in embarrassment, "I thought I'd get a chance to tell you about her first but-"

There was another squeal and suddenly someone through their arms around Helga from behind, practically jumping onto her back.

"L-Lila," Helga gasped out, "C-can't b-breathe!"

"Oh! I'm ever so sorry!"

Helga's assailant finally let go of her and stepped back. It was another young lady around their age, sweet-faced with red hair in two long braids and freckles. Her green checkered dress was hung off of one shoulder but was still more modest than some of the other waitresses. She beamed at Helga, not even noticing Arnold or Brian sitting at the table.

"I'm ever so glad you're back!" Lila gushed looking like she wanted to hug Helga again, "It's been ever so long since I've seen you."

"I've been busy. You know, piracy and all that," Helga gave a good-natured roll of her eyes, "Arnold, this is Lila. Lila, Arnold."

Arnold politely stood and offered her a polite bow, "A pleasure to meet you."

"Oh," Lila looked surprised and attempted a clumsy curtsy, "A-a pleasure, sir."

"Do me a favor and get us a couple of glasses of ale?" Helga pulled a silver piece out of a draw string bag, "And come join us so you can associate with civil company for a change."

"Right away Helga," Lila tucked the silver piece away and walked off to fill their order.

And as she walked Arnold noticed why her curtsy had been so awkward. Lila was limping; one leg from the knee down was made of wood. Helga must have noticed him staring because she nudged his arm.

"Don't stare," Helga whispered to him, "She gets enough jeers from everyone as it is."

Arnold obediently stopped staring, "She seems... sweet. Another friend of yours?"

"Whether I like it or not," But Helga was smiling and she patted Brian affectionately, "Sometimes I can't help but rescue strays."

"And... she was a stray?" Arnold smiled at Helga in admiration. "You're awfully generous for a blood thirsty pirate my lady. Has Lila always been... um..."

"Short a leg?" Helga offered bluntly, "As long as I've known her. I found her on the streets a village over." Her expression saddened for a moment, "Her village had been attacked and her dad was killed. I couldn't just leave her so I found her a job her. The proprietor owed me a favor. Phoebe was the one who fashioned the leg for her. But try not to mention it to her. She smothers me enough as it is."

"Maybe she's just grateful to you," Arnold suggested warmly.

Helga shrugged but she looked away happily.

"Here you are!" Lila returned with three mugs of ale, a glass of water for Brian and peered down at them with an excited smile, "So Arnold, how did you meet Helga? Are you two... together? What does Wolfgang think? What have you been up to?"

Arnold choked on his ale and Helga rolled her eyes, "He's a captive, no, and no one cares what Wolfgang thinks. And if you clam up for a minute I'll tell you."

Lila clamped her lips together, dropped down into a seat, and clapped her hands excited. Helga shot Arnold an amused look and began talking. As she regaled Lila with everything that had been happening since they saw each other last, Arnold sipped his ale in contentment. Spending the day with Helga, seeing how he wasn't the only one affected by her, made him wonder even more how he was going to go back to his life in Hillwood. Or even if he wanted to.