And a nice big, juicy chapter to tie this latest update up. Please keep all hands and feet inside the coaster until the end of the chapter, please! (Not my best editing for this update, plz don't come for me, I'll try and come back and clean it up some!)


It was eye-opening, this fresh new realization.

And made everything seem different in retrospect.

All these ups and downs, all this emotion I was experiencing that I had never dealt with before, and he had been with someone of Lady Delagio's caliber…

Armando's eyes widened and he reached for me, but halted when I quickly stepped back. "Isabeau, whatever you are thinking-"

"It's not much, is it?" I repeated, wondering how it was possible I felt even worse, sickened with regret and disgust at myself, at how weak I was. "I'm not to be 'dallied' with, not when you have Lady Delagio to be involved with. Was I just to amuse you, to entertain yourself until you docked?"

He scowled in confusion for a moment, then his jaw went slack when he realized what I was saying. He stared at me in disbelief, before he said quietly, "That is what you think? That you are a passing amusement to me?"

"You certainly haven't said otherwise!" And he hadn't. I was certain of that. He'd led with silent implications and subtle hints, but nothing concrete, nothing outright. And then just earlier- "You're the one who called me a harlot! You're the one who said I wasn't to be dallied with! What else am I supposed to think?!"

Was that his game this entire time? That I wasn't worthy of him, wasn't worth being treated with honor, wasn't worth more than just a tumble between the sheets?

Armando stepped closer, his expression twisting to visible pain, if not absolutely wounded. "I have said otherwise. I have given you my protection, Isabeau, I care for you, and while I have further intentions where you are regarded, I have not said as much yet, for good reason."

He raised his hands to haphazardly run them over his hair, dislodging several strands from his bun, muttering in audibly panicked Spanish before he switched to English, his accent growing thicker as he spoke, "Isabeau, I wish to court you, with intention, not just a mere-"

He broke off, his breath shuddering as he sucked in a deep inhale before continuing, "That is why I must keep myself in check, as you deserve far better than being bedded like some common-"

"How can you say that when you're still involved with Lady Delagio?" I cried, so tired of the teetering back and forth on this precipice. "You can't say that you're not still sleeping with her, she's entirely within your league, you have history together, you fucked off with her the other night for Christ's sake-"

"Am I still involved with her? Do you truly believe that, after I've told you repeatedly that I am not, that we were only speaking as mere acquaintances? Or are you using that assumption as an excuse to ignore what lies in front of you? What lingers between us?"

I twitched, uncomfortably realizing that there was some inkling of truth to his words.

But how could I believe him, after everything? Believe myself, my traitorous thoughts that spun like leaves in a tornado? I was starting to wonder if this whole 'romance' business was even worth it, if it constantly felt like I was on a rollercoaster of emotions! But him all but calling me a whore- "Lady BeKatt was right, I'll never amount to anything compared to you-"

"Lady Bekatt?" His head snapped up, his face turning dark with an ominous anger. "You mean the shameless puta that paraded herself around and tried to ensnare my attention like the pitiless viper she is. The woman who slapped you, I would like to remind you, which I to this day regret not punishing her for, and you would believe her poisonous words over mine?!"

I shook my head, not wanting to listen when her words so closely echoed what I'd told myself. "I can't believe this, believe that I've been throwing myself at you like this, like she said-"

His face became appalled and he flashed out one hand to quickly cover my mouth, stopping my onslaught of self-deprecation even as I shook it off. "No, Isabeau! You really think you were behaving like that-that true ramera who spent almost the entirety of the voyage forcing me to listen to the mosquito buzzing of her inane chatter, doing her utmost to entrap my affections, disgusting me with her sickeningly blatant fawning, and then had the audacity to assault you for a harmless prank?! You have done nothing even comparable to her behavior, and you do not deserve her slandering thoughts, you know this-"

"Do I? How do I know anything anymore? How do I trust anything I know? Anything you've told me or heaven forbid, just silently hinted at?!" My voice was turning shrill, verging on panic, not knowing which way to think was forwards or backwards anymore.

"Isabeau, I have been honest with you," Armando murmured, his voice pitched to a soothing tone as he took another step towards me, reaching out with one hand. "I have been honest with you, I have never lied to you. I...admit, I may have...misled you, but it was of my own misgivings, never about you. You are brave, you are intelligent. You are kind, wild, and courageous. You have fears, but you are not afraid to face them. You feel empathy, even when it is undeserved. You are a protector, even when your charges are surly Spaniards who refuse to listen to you. Your imagination is unparalleled, and I will never not be fascinated by the stories you tell."

I shook my head, not wanting to listen, not wanting to give in. There was too much, and I needed to think.

I held up a hand, and to his credit, he halted in his tracks, staring at me imploringly.

Slowly shaking my head, I took another step back. "No, I - I can't - cannot handle all this right now. I need - I need to think, and you-"

I inhaled a shuddering breath and began to back away. "You need to leave me alone."

Armando physically jerked, as if I'd shot him. His skin took on a slightly sickly hue as he paled under his tan. "Per...perdoname?"

I nodded to myself, my voice growing stronger as I grew more certain. "Leave me alone. I need to...I just need to deal with - with today."

Armando visibly swallowed and despite my still outstretched hand, took a step towards me. "Isabeau, por favor, do not walk away from me while this...wound, is still between us. It will fester-"

"I need to stop the fucking bleeding first, Armando!" I yelled, gesturing wildly. "It might be all fine and dandy for you to relentlessly pursue an apology right out the gate, but I don't work that way! It fucking hurts, and I don't want to deal with it right this goddamn second! I want to lick my wounds for a while, think about all the shit you said, and then I might be open to deal with you! You're driving me crazy, it's only getting worse! One second, you're the charming epitome of passionate Spaniard, and the next it's like I personally insulted your parentage! And let's not forget earlier, when I was the recipient of the face you'd make if your ridiculously overpolished boots were covered in my blood all over again just because I put on a nice dress. I'm tired of the constant up, down, back, forward, and sideways. I'm dealing with all of this time-travel asshattery to the best of my goddamn ability, doing a damn fine job dealing with the culture shock if I do say so myself, and honestly, I don't know how much more of it I can take."

We stared at each other, Armando with an agonizingly stricken expression, and me breathing hard like a racehorse that had just crossed the finish line.

I wasn't prone to long tirades, and I was certain that was one of my longest, on top of my already tumultuous emotions.

As if right on cue, the uncontrollable urge to just start crying abruptly bubbled up and the dam broke.

A sob viciously ripped from my throat, the tears bursting free as I covered my face with my hands, stumbling backwards against sturdy, solid brick.

It was just too much. One thing on top of another on top of another and they just kept piling on.

I was feeling the same helpless dismay and trapped hopelessness I'd had during my job, the endless spiral with the only light at the end of the tunnel being the entrance to the next level of depression.

The tears ran rampant, freed from any sense of restraint, and I sobbed my heart out, unable to contain the stress any longer.

Fingertips lightly brushed my arms, tracing up to slide cautiously over my shoulders, waiting to see if I would pull away.

When I didn't, unable to resist the siren temptation even now, even after what he said, soothing warmth seeped into my tensed muscles as strong arms gently, carefully wrapped around me.

He pulled me to his chest, offering his supporting strength, yet his hold was light enough that if I showed any sign of rejection, he'd instantly let go.

I don't know how long I cried against him. I tried to stop, but every time I thought I might be able to get it under control, some memory or a repeated thought would pop back up and I'd just keep crying.

By the time I finally felt too drained to cry anymore, the air was cool against my exposed skin. It was almost uncomfortably chilling contrast compared to the furnace I was being embraced by. I couldn't make out what time it was, pressed as I was into his chest, but it had been just turning twilight when I left the shop, so it was safe to guess it was almost nightfall by now.

But the comforting promise of darkness barely made a scratch on my shredded psyche.

I felt empty, hollowed out with my skin stretched tight, like a drum.

Yet the sudden realization that no one had seen me cry more than this man had managed to make me hiccup a tiny, weak huff of amusement.

"¿Que?"

"Just thinking...you're the only person to see me cry this much. I don't think even my mother has."

He hummed, then fumbled in a pocket to pull out a handkerchief and handed it to me.

I grimaced, feeling the thick snot clogging my nose and knew I was a horrid mess. Oh well, it's his fault for this anyway. Well, maybe not completely, but definitely a good chunk of it.

I blew my nose and tried to wipe my face as best I could, then tucked the dirty cloth in my pocket. I'd wash it and return it later.

At least I can breathe now. Somewhat. Inhaling deeply, I let the air slowly out, deflating like a sad balloon as I collapsed further against Armando, feeling him tighten his arms around me. He hadn't moved during my entire breakdown, seeming content to just let me drool all over his coat.

I winced as I felt how damp they were against my cheek. "I messed up your clothes. I'm sorry."

A snort rattled his frame. "I can wash myself, cariño."

I sighed and buried my face in his chest. "I'm more emotionally stable than this, I swear." Armando tucked the edges of his coat around me before settling his arms in his favored position, one around my shoulders and the other around my lower back. "Perhaps, when I'm not thoughtlessly insulting your manner of dress, and you are not already at your limits. I would...like to explain my actions, if you'll allow me, and to apologize further. Later, of course, when you are feeling better."

I curled my lip, not wanting to even think about discussing it right now, and changed the subject. "...I hate crying, it's so useless. And it doesn't fix a damn thing."

Armando gracefully let me switch topics. "I recall such sentiments. But do you not feel better?"

He was right. I was too drained to feel the wrenching heartache at the moment. I hate it when he's right. I grudgingly admitted, "A little."

"Then perhaps it is not a waste, hm?" he murmured, lightly resting his chin on top of my head.

I grunted, not wanting to grant his logic with an answer.

We continued to stand there. In the distance, I heard people still bustling about in the streets, but it was quieter, the end of day approaching with the darkening sky.

I didn't even know where we were, how far I'd managed to make it from the dress shop. At least Armando was here to keep me from getting kidnapped, so that was something, anyway.

He stirred slightly, shifting his grip, and I realized he was fidgeting when he let out a deep sigh. "I know you do not wish to speak about it for now, and I will respect that. I just wish for you to know...my misguided words were nothing of your own doing that...that influenced the wrong I must right. I know you likely will not believe me, but it was…"

I snorted at his hesitation. "That's the oldest lie in the book, Capitán. 'It's not you, it's me' is what people say when it is you, they're just trying to make you feel better about it."

His arms tightened to the point I let out a wheezed squeak and he said hoarsely, "No. It was not your fault, or anything you said or did in any way. It was me, it was...a realization I had, one that-"

He abruptly cut himself off, his teeth snapping together with a click.

For the first time since we'd been standing like this, I lifted my head to see his expression.

He gazed down at me, guilt and regret heavy in the lines of his face as he saw my puffy eyes and the red blotches I could feel still warming my cheeks. "It frightened me."

I cocked my head, frowning in confusion at his whispered admission. When I opened my mouth to ask him about it, he gave a faint smirk and quickly pressed a finger against my lips. "No, querida. I will tell you, later, when you wish to speak about it. By your own request. ¿Sí?"

I gave him a half-hearted glare and a weak attempt to bite his finger, which he easily avoided and playfully tapped me on the nose in admonishment.

I kept quiet, looking up at his face tiredly, wondering if any of this would get easier.

Armando was also silent, his eyes flicking between mine before he brought his hands up to gently cup my face.

I was caught off guard by the unexpected action, but I held still, curious to see what he'd do as he slowly began to lower his head.

He'd better not think now's a good time to try kissing.

But before I could feel any outrage, he pressed his forehead to mine.

The simple gesture of affection disarmed me more than anything he could have said.

I blinked, stunned immobile as he merely bumped his nose against mine in a small nuzzle before just letting his forehead rest on mine with a slow exhale.

And it hit me like a brick what he was trying to do.

He was trying to be what I needed. He was giving support and affection, without overwhelming me, without pushing against any resistance I gave. There was no intensity in his presence, nothing to add to my already precarious emotional state. To try and show how he felt in a way that I could understand.

And it honestly made me want to start crying all over again.

"You - you wouldn't be doing this - for anyone else, would you?" I hiccupped, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried my best to keep my composure.

"Only for you, Isabeau." He drew back and kissed my forehead. "Come, you need to rest, and I am certain your leg has had enough exercise today."

I gazed up at him, blinking slowly, then reached up with one hand to touch his chest, swallowing hard before I whispered pleadingly, "We'll be alright. Eventually, maybe...won't we?"

Armando's eyes widened at the sheer emotion in my voice. He quickly caught my hand and pressed my palm to his lips in a firm kiss before laying it against his cheek. "We will. This I swear to you."

I gave a weak smile, not entirely certain I believed him. A lot of damage had been done this evening, and we still hadn't fully repaired the wound from my callous words to him before we'd docked.

Uncharacteristically, Armando didn't press, even though I was certain he saw my doubt.

Instead, he stepped to my right side and kept a hold of my hand, tucking it over his arm as he started to lead the way back to the main street.

It was immediately obvious I wasn't going to be able to walk all the way back to the hotel as I started to limp heavily, my leg overused from standing at the dress shop for so long. "Ah, fucking useless muscles."

Armando grimaced at my language and let out a snort. ", as having your leg almost cleaved in twain is something to expect to heal overnight."

I shot him a half-hearted glare. "I don't think I appreciate your snark, señor. And there's no need to exaggerate, everything's still attached. I'm just momentarily...mobility dependent."

Unexpectedly, he chuckled and moved to give me a gallant flourish of a bow. "May I offer my services in assisting the señorita back to her rooms?"

I let out an ungraceful sputter, to which he merely smirked faintly in response, and shook my head with a reluctant smile. "Oh, really. Intend to carry me all the way there, or do you plan on just calling a hack?"

He straightened, his playful expression quickly sobering. "I would...I wish to carry you, Isabeau, if you will allow it."

The request, him asking my permission, instead of just charging forwards or cajoling away any resistance caught me by surprise.

So much so that I found myself tentatively nodding, unsure of what possessed me to let myself be carried again when all present knew I hated it.

But before I could come to my senses and change my mind, Armando was already moving, gently picking me up with an ease that spoke of more practice than I liked to think about, before he started to walk once more.

I kept my arms around his neck to try and help balance my weight, and rested my head on his shoulder, trying not to think of how unpleasant it'd be to land on my ass if he accidentally dropped me.

"You know, if this romance business was with Lesaro, I guarantee you it wouldn't be half as complicated," I grumbled, dramatically dropping my head back over his arm with a groan.

"I saw you first, therefore Lesaro has no claim nor say in the matter," he mused lightly, not even bothering to sound affronted, the horrible man. "I would also like to remind you that Lesaro was of the idea that you posed a threat when you were brought aboard."

I snorted in wry amusement and lifted my head back onto his shoulder so I didn't strain his arm. "I suppose having blood drenching my clothes didn't help any positive first impressions."

"There were some mentions of a rabid animal in female form," he agreed, shifting his left hand under my back to tickle my side, making me squirm and wheeze a giggle before he settled his grip again. "But you were under my protection, even then, and none of my men dare defy me."

"Then I'm glad it was you who found me, Capitán," I emphasized his title with a teasing smile, making him grunt in response, but I saw the glimmer of a grin. "I am serious, though. I haven't told you that enough. I'm not naive enough to think I would get better treatment on any other ship, especially not where the captain would share his supply of peppermint-"

I broke off as Armando bent his head and firmly pressed a lingering kiss full of affection against my hair. "Yo siempre te protegeré, mi corazón."

He was doing the cheating language barrier thing again, but I found I couldn't mind. I could hear the emotion in his words, and I knew enough to recognize the last words.

I swallowed thickly and gamely tried to turn the conversation. "Now that you mention it, have you seen Lady BeKatt recently? I haven't seen her at the hotel."

"She managed to find passage back to her homeland, along with a maid to accompany her. I would wish for more protection, but she insisted enough had been done for her." Armando let me switch subjects with a small sneer of annoyance.

"Aw, sadness. I wouldn't have minded seeing her again before she left. But I'm glad she seems to have...grown some, even if it was at the expense of your legendary control," I teased as I patted his shoulder, tweaking his epaulette in the process. "And here you are, sounding almost concerned even after all the shit she put you, me and everyone else through."

He slid me a half-lidded glance to let me know he wasn't amused. "I still haven't forgiven her for what she said to you. She did, however, wish for you to know that she fully intends to take your advice to heart, however. What did you tell her, if I may ask?"

I coughed awkwardly then scrunched my nose before reluctantly admitting, "I told her to stop acting like a bitch to everyone just because life dealt her a few shitty hands. And to get a cat. Hey, whoa!"

I clung to his shoulders as he stumbled, quickly righting himself before looking down at me in disbelief. "You said- that was your advice?"

I shrugged sheepishly, wondering if he thought I'd said the wrong thing. "More eloquently, I swear, but that was the general idea of it. She could be a much better person, if she tried, and I doubt her acting like she does actually makes her happy. So if she learns to be nicer, who knows, maybe she'll get what she's after in life."

For a long moment, the night air was filled only with the quiet murmur of street life and the sharp click of Armando's boots on the wooden sidewalk.

Finally, he spoke softly, "And you, Isabeau?

I blinked, befuddled. "And I what?"

"Will you get what you want in life?"

I opened my mouth to give a blithe answer, but then paused, thinking about it for a moment. Hopefully I'll get what I need, but what I want… "That's a bit much of a loaded question this late at night. A change in subject, if you please."

Armando gave a short nod, accommodating my request. "As the señorita wishes. Your cherimoyas were quite delicious, gracías."

It took a long, long second for his comment to sink in. Then I could only splutter in outrage for several tries before I managed actual words. "How did- what- you- how the hell did you get ahold of those?! They're mine, and you better not have eaten them all! What's with you and stealing my damn food!?"

He barked a laugh at my expense, shifting his grip easily as the hotel came into view. "Whatever do you mean?"

"First for my pineapple, now my cherimoyas! Renowned pirate hunter my ass, you're just a damn fruit thief! I knew I should have just stabbed you with my fork, consequences be damned!"

"Calmate, calmate, I only ate one. And I cannot be blamed, you have excellent taste in fruits." He grinned unrepentantly as he walked through the hotel doors, the expression only stretching wider when I could only gape at the obscene audacity of the man.

"You have no shame," I grumbled sullenly, studiously ignoring the curious looks of a few of his crew, most notably that of Lesaro and Reíno, the former having a pleased expression on his face while the latter was openly staring, slack-jawed.

Armando sent them all a harsh glare, making them quickly turn back to what they were doing, with the exception of Lesaro who merely gave a respectful nod before continuing on his way out through the door.

"Gossiping abuelas," Armando muttered, making his way up the stairs towards my room.

I rolled my eyes with a snort. "Can you blame them? Guillermo told me you weren't known for slinging women over your shoulder, and here you are, carrying me around, again. One might think you're trying to make a habit of it."

Armando's face twisted into a smirk, one that made my stomach flip over at how outrageously handsome he was, but he kept whatever lascivious thoughts running rampant through his dirty mind to himself. "Unlock the door, por favor."

I looked over to see he was standing in front of my room. "You know, I'm perfectly capable of walking at this point."

"I am certain you are," he replied easily, lowering me in his arms so I could reach the lock. "Now unlock the door."

I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath, but went to pull the key out of my pocket, my fingers brushing a familiar round piece of metal in the process.

I stilled, train of thought careening along its tracks at breakneck speed, before I managed to awkwardly clear my throat and pull out the key.

I could feel Armando's questioning glance, but he didn't press my hesitation, simply shouldered open the door after I unlocked it and twisted the handle.

Exhaustion crashed hard and I was looking forward to just sleeping away my problems.

Figuratively speaking.

Armando lowered me to sit on the bed, flipping the covers back as I bent down to take my shoes off with a low groan of relief. "I miss my sneakers, there's no reason for shoes to be this uncomfy."

"Sneakers?" he asked, reaching up to untie his cravat.

"Kind of all purpose shoes, with lots of flexibility and cushion. Usually worn when you're on your feet for long periods of time or for exercising. I had a really nice pair, felt like walking on cushy clouds…" I trailed off, dreaming of my running shoes that were light as feathers and well worth the price I'd paid.

"Those sound pleasant to wear." He started unbuttoning his waistcoat, smiling faintly when he saw the rose on the dresser.

I eyed the flower too, still on the fence about whether to keep it or toss it. Be honest with yourself at least, you're gonna fucking press it because you're ridiculously hopeless and have no spine for yourself.

I frowned at the thought. "What's the plan for tomorrow? I know there was mention of lessons after the dresses were complete-"

"Rest, for the both of us." Armando finished the last button and flicked the garment open, stretching his slim torso with a sigh of freedom before he propped himself against the dress and turned to me. "I will inform Lesaro that you are not to be disturbed, unless you wish for company, or for meals."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, trying not to let myself be distracted by his state of disarray. "What happened to tight schedule, etiquette training, leaving soon?"

He lifted an eyebrow. "You wish to go out tomorrow while you are still trying to deal with today?"

I didn't have to think for my response of curling my lip in distaste. "Not particularly, no."

He smiled gently and slowly walked towards the bed. "My schedule is not so tight that I cannot grant you reprieve, Isabeau. Sleep, think about what I have said, and we will discuss it more tomorrow, hm?"

I leaned forward and dropped my head against his stomach, feeling him tense in surprise at the gesture before he relaxed and stroked a hand over my hair. "You'll get some sleep too, right? No running off for more midnight 'relations'?"

"No, I am not going anywhere." Armando gently scritched my scalp, making me shudder at the ripples of pleasure tickling down my spine. "I will send for a bath and some supper for you."

I sighed and pulled back so he could leave before I drooled on him again. "Thank you, I would appreciate that. Buenas noches, Armando."

He twitched, looking down at me suspiciously even as I grinned impishly and held up a hand. "All the Spanish I know, cross my heart."

"Mm," he grunted, then walked over to the connecting door to his rooms. "Sweet dreams, Isabeau."

I tilted my head, that stupid warmth blooming in my chest again at the tenderness in his voice. "And you, Armando."

And then he stepped out of my room, closing the door with a soft click.

And I was left alone to deal with these new developments.


Translations (Courtesy of thsoawc)

Yo siempre te protegeré, mi corazón. - I will always protect you, my heart

And sadly, we're at the end of all I've got for now. But if it makes anyone feel any better, it's smooth sailing (haha) all the way out for the duo. Fingers crossed it won't take me nearly so long to get the next chapter(s) out, but with the way the start of 2023 is going, I don't wanna make any promises (ignore the slightly hysterical laughter) I'll end up breaking, but just know that we're on to happier days between these two idiots! (Finally)