Arnold felt his stomach lurch with the prominent bobbing and swaying of the ship. His head throbbed and his limbs ached something fierce. But he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of vomiting or groaning in pain. He sat on the bench in his cell trying to take deep steadying breaths despite the pungent smell of mold. Despite his yearning for the sea and adventure, Arnold hadn't been on a ship in years. Before his parents' disappearance, he had been deemed too young. After their disappearance, his need to take care of his grandparents and then Port Hillwood superseded everything else.

Arnold hadn't realized how dark ships were. The cell he was in had no porthole and the lanterns on the wall in the hall had died down, leaving him in almost total darkness. He had no idea what time it was, if it was day or night, or even how far out to sea they were. Panic was close but hadn't completely seized him yet.

Deep breath in, Deep breath out. Deep breath in, Deep breath out.

Arnold tried to focus on keeping his stomach still, instead of replaying the past few hours. How many innocent lives had been taken by those blasted pirates?

Deep breath in, Deep breath out.

Arnold shuddered and felt bile rise in his throat. How many of neighbors and friends had they killed? How many homes and lives had they destroyed for their own selfish gains?

Deep breath in, Deep breath out.

What Gerald okay? Had they killed him? If Arnold hadn't distracted him, would Gerald have gotten away?

Deep breath in, Deep breath out.

Arnold shook his head to try and clear it but ended up hissing in pain. His neck still stung from her cut, which made his brain hurt from remembering her betrayal.

"It's because I'm a girl, isn't it?" She had said.

No, it's because you seemed so… innocent… and gentle. Arnold thought bitterly. Why would I expect someone as beautiful as you to be so cruel?

Deep breath in, Deep breath out. Deep breath in, Deep breath out. Deep breath in, Deep breath in. Deep breath out, Deep breath out. Deep breath in, Deep breath in. Deep breath out, Deep breath out. Deep brea-

Arnold suddenly stopped breathing altogether when he realized there had been an additional set of heavy breathing. Holding his own breath, Arnold went rigid and waited. At first, he was met with silence. But then-

Raspy Breath in, Raspy Breath out.

Flames suddenly lit up the darkness and a ghostly face appeared inches from his own. "Uh… hi…."

"GAAH!" Arnold screamed and fell off the bench.

The ghost gave a raspy chuckle and the flame grew so it illuminated the room. Arnold blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden change in light. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw that the ghost was just an eight-year-old boy with pale skin and short, pale blond hair. In his hand was a lantern. Coal and tar dusted his ratty clothing. Arnold felt warm embarrassment flood his face and he slowly unclenched his fists.

"Um, hello," Arnold said cautiously, "who are you?"

The boy didn't answer. He just went on breathing and looking at him. Arnold shifted uncomfortably. He looked like an innocent kid but Arnold didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

"Are you… one of them?"

More heavy, rasping breathing, but no answer. Arnold shifted uncomfortably until he spotted the keys at the kid's side. Despite himself, he felt a little bit of hope rising.

"Are you going to let me out?"

"Uhh….no."

Arnold sat back with an annoyed huff and the kid mimicked his posture, not seeming in the least perturbed by Arnold's attitude. After a few moments (which felt like hours) of silently staring at him, the kid reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of fabric. As he unraveled it, though, Arnold could see two dark bread rolls wrapped up inside. His stomach instantly began growling and his mouth watered. Despite the unfamiliar rolling of the ship, Arnold realized that it had been hours since he had last eaten and he was starving.

"Is that…." His mouth watered, "for me?"

"Uh… yes."

The kids held out the bread to him and Arnold barely restrained himself from snatching it out of his hands. He took a large bite, expecting his teeth to sink into warm, soft bread, but gave a startled grunt of pain when it felt like wood instead. He took a moment to examine it to make sure it really wasn't wood before biting into it again, slowly. This time the crust made a satisfying crunch as his teeth finally got through. And while the bread inside wasn't exactly soft or fluffy, it did have a startling, complex flavor to it. Unlike the soft, bland whiter rolls he was used to at home that was more air than sustenance. Arnold wolfed the first roll down hungrily and was just biting into the second one when an angry shout echoed from down the hall outside.

"Where are you, ya little creep!? I know you're down here somewhere!"

The yelling was closely followed by thunderous footsteps that came closer and closer to the cell.

"Uh… uh-oh."

Without another word the kid blew out the lantern and scurried under the bench. Moments later an extremely irate looking Harold loomed at the bars of the cell door, his face scarlet with rage. He held his own lantern up to examine the room and his face contorted when he spotted Arnold.

"Aha!" He yelled pointing at Arnold, "I knew that little thief stole from my kitchen!"

Arnold started choking on the bread that was still in his mouth. He stood up and took a defensive pose as Harold opened the cell and strode over to him. Up close he noticed that Harold was now sporting a black eye. Arnold began to stammer, feeling his stomach clench in fear.

"Um, I-I-"

Harold cut him off by clamping his meaty fist around the front of Arnold's shirt and lifting him off the ground.

"Where is he!?" He shouted, showering Arnold's face with spit, "Where is that little creepy cabin boy? I know he's here somewhere."

Arnold didn't need to guess who exactly Harold was talking about. The smartest thing to do considering the situation would be to give up the kid and avoid Harold's rage. For all he knew the kid might be a skilled fighter if he was on board a pirate ship. Shoot, for all he knew the kid had given Harold the black eye. Regardless, the stubborn, protective side of Arnold just couldn't bring himself to expose him.

"He's- he's not here," Arnold lied, "He just dropped the bread off and left."

Harold narrowed his eyes as if he was trying to decipher if Arnold was lying. Arnold silently prayed that Harold wouldn't hear the kid's heavy breathing and give them both away. But then another sound made even Harold go pale and a chill went down Arnold's spine.

"Oh Haaaaroooold," An eerily calm voice said, "what the hell are you doing?"

Harold went rigid as Helga appeared in the door with a tray in her hands. Her smile was sweet but her eyes were full of fire. One look between Helga and Harold and Arnold could guess where Harold's black eye came from. The kid suddenly shot out from under the bench and ran to Helga. For a fraction of a second, a genuine smile of affection flitted across Helga's features before turning her gaze upon Harold again. Then her smile became chilling.

"H-he was stealing from my kitchen again!" Harold stabbed a finger at the boy hovering behind her, "The kitchen is my territory and its off limits."

"And so's Brian!" Helga shot back, "So if you so much as threaten to put your fat, meaty paws on him again, I'll do more than give you a black eye. Ca va?"

Harold's face scrunched up in confusion, "Huh?"

"Ugh," Helga rolled her eyes, "just get out, fat boy."

Harold dropped Arnold unceremoniously to the floor and stomped out of the cell. Once he was out of the room Helga's icy blue eyes turned to Arnold. His muscles tensed but he stared her down from his position on the floor. He refused to be intimidated by her, even as his heart quaked in apprehension. She must have sensed it though because her lips curled in a smirk.

"Not so brave and gallant now, are you?" She snickered, "look at you, you're practically trembling with fear."

Arnold's eyes narrowed and he felt a surge of indignation. The only reason why he was still here because he stupidly tried to save her. And now she was making fun of him for it?

"Aw, am I making you mad?" She continued to giggle, "I'm not hitting a nerve am I?"

"Of course, not," Arnold said tightly, "I would never lose my temper in front of a delicate young lady, such as yourself." His tone was sarcastic, meant to insult her without completely lowering himself to her level.

By the thinning of her lips, he could guess that the sarcasm was not unnoticed. Without a warning, she dropped the tray she was holding, sending it and a bowl of soup clattering to the ground. Arnold jumped up with an exclamation of shock as half of the scalding soup splashed his shirt.

"Whoops," Helga's lips curled back up in a smile, "it seems like the tray was too much for my delicate hands to hold."

Arnold bit his lip to keep in a string of uncouth words from coming out. He took in a deep steadying breath and released it slowly. He offered her a small bow instead.

"I apologize for the inconvenience my presence has brought you, my lady."

Helga's face went several shades of scarlet and her body tensed. Arnold flinched back, expecting her to hit him any second. But then that dangerous, slow smile spread across her face instead.

"Brian," she cooed softly, "go get me a coil of rope."

The kid nodded and scurried off into the dark hallway, leaving Arnold completely alone with her. Any bravery Arnold felt was quickly evaporating. There was something about Helga's smile that was more dangerous than her snarl. The bright gleam in her eyes, the sharp curve of her lips, the intensity of her stare. It all made Arnold shift uncomfortably, picking at his shirt where it was starting to stick to his skin. Finally, curiosity got the best of him.

"How-"

"None of your business." Came her instant reply.

Arnold blinked, "But, I didn't even-"

"Doesn't matter, still not your business."

Arnold's mouth shut in, his lips pursed in annoyance and for an instant, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of amusement in her eyes. The kid, Brain, came back moments later with a coil of rope and a knife, handing them both to Helga.

"Hands," She demanded of Arnold.

He looked between her and the rope suspiciously, "I'm afraid I have to decline…"

"And I don't believe I gave you a choice," Helga's eyes darkened. "Hands. Now."

Reluctantly, measuring the growing anger behind those beautiful blue eyes, Arnold held out both hands to her, palm side down. Helga's smirk returned as she unraveled a length of rope and proceeded to tie it tightly around each of his wrists. He started to make a noise of protest but a swift glance from Helga made him still his tongue. Once the rope was firmly knotted Helga trailed off a length of the rope before cutting it with the knife. She gave a sharp tug and Arnold stumbled forward.

"Now," She smirked, her face uncomfortably close to his own, "let's give you the grand tour."

She pulled him out of the cell like an animal on a tether, making his face burn with indignation and annoyance. Never in his life had Arnold been treated this way, but then again what else could one expect from pirates? Once they reached the top deck Arnold had to shut his eyes at the sudden brightness of the blinding sunlight. Helga relentlessly continued to pull him forward, ignoring the way he was struggling to keep his footing. Slowly though he could crack his eyes open and take in his surroundings.

The sky was a bright blue with scatterings of wispy clouds. Gulls called to each other. The half-furled sails rippled gently with the steady breeze. Despite everything, the kidnapping, the assault on his home, the physical abuse, Arnold's could stop the joy swelling in his heart. The cool breeze in his hair, the taste of salt on his tongue, the warmth of the strong sun on his skin. Before he could stop himself, his lips parted in a smile and a quiet sigh escaped.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Arnold snapped back to attention to find Helga staring at him, her expression unreadable. It was hard to tell if she was mocking him or genuinely interested in his response.

"I've always wanted to sail," he decided to be honest. "Back home, I never got much of a chance. I couldn't afford to."

"Couldn't afford to?" Helga gave an unladylike snort, "You, a governor with a fancy mansion and a whole port to your beck and call, can't afford to sail?"

"That's not what I meant," Arnold huffed, "not all of us can afford to abandon our responsibilities and the people who rely on us to tramp around as an unlawful pirate."

Helga's lips quirked and for a moment he thought that she was going to smile. But instead, she gave a particularly harsh tug on the rope making him stumble again. As they walk Arnold took in the rest of the ship. Pirates in various states of grime were milling around on deck doing various tasks or sitting around drinking. More than one of them snickered at the sight of him being pulled around by Helga, but none of them seemed the least bit surprised.

"Oi!" Helga called to one of them, "Where the hell is Wolfgang?"

"Forecastle last I saw," the man called back, "went looking for his father."

Helga made a noise of displeasure in response and continued tugging Arnold along, heading towards the front of the ship. Her steps were quick and her shoulders tense. He didn't know who this Wolfgang was, but whoever he was Arnold could guess that he was about to be in trouble. Arnold almost felt sorry for him. As the neared the forecastle of the ship, two figures were leaning against the ship's outer railing, waiting by a door.

"Wolfgang!" Helga shouted angrily.

One of the figures peeled himself off the railing and headed over, causing Brian to scurry away. Arnold sucked in a sharp breath when he recognized him as the pirate who had fought Gerald that fateful night. But Wolfgang wasn't even looking at him. Instead, he gave Helga a toothy grin and looked at her in a distinctly ungentlemanly way.

"Hey, beautiful," Wolfgang cooed, "did anyone ever tell you that you look incredibly sexy when you're mad?"

"You, nearly every day," Helga's tone was dry but her cheeks tinged pink, "but I don't have time for bull today. Has anyone decided what we're going to do with him?"

The jerk of her thumb indicated that she was referring to Arnold.

"Hell, if I know," Wolfgang shrugged, "Still waiting for dear old captain dad to decide."

"Wait, you mean, you aren't the captain?" Arnold couldn't help but look at Helga in confusion. "you said this was your ship."

Helga looked at him in annoyance while Wolfgang barked out a laugh.

"She acts like this is her ship!"

"Well if it wasn't for me, we'd all be cramped in that moldy little dingy!"

"You forget who led the charge!?"

"Did you forget who found them!?"

With each yelled statement, Wolfgang and Helga's face became closer and closer. Then, with a wolf-like smile, Wolfgang closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers in a rough kiss.

"Ugh!" Helga jerked back, her face twisted in disgust but her cheeks were red, "You son of a-"

Faster than Arnold could detect Helga dropped the rope, grabbed Wolfgang's shoulders, and kneed him in the crotch. He doubled over with a strangled grunt of pain and when he managed to straighten back up again, he snarled at her.

"Why you-" He roughly grabbed Helga's wrist and yanked her to him, "I outta-"

"Let go of her!" Before Arnold realized what he was doing, he pushed himself in-between them. He fixed Wolfgang with a stern frown, "That is no way you talk to or treat a lady. I insist you let go of her immediately.

Wolfgang snapped his head to glare at Arnold. Using the distraction, Helga stomped her boot heel into Wolfgang's foot and then elbowed him in the ribs, knocking him back. And without missing a beat she grabbed the front of Arnold's shirt and yanked his face to hers.

"Listen here blondie," She spoke in a low, angry voice, "I don't know if you're dense or just plain stupid. But I'm gonna let you in on something. I've been taking care of myself for five years now, so I sure don't need you waltzing in here and trying to do it. Understand?"

Her eyes bore into his own, and he could practically feel the heat of her anger. Arnold knew what the best response was, but something about her temper edged on his own.

"As you wish," He nodded stiffly, "but if you recall, it's your fault I'm still here. My lady."

"Raaarg!" Helga screamed furiously and threw him to the ground. Before Arnold could react, her sword was unsheathed and at his throat.

"What the devil is going on out here!?" A new voice boomed.

Helga stiffened and then slowly pulled her sword away. Arnold looked behind her and saw a large, burly man with a prominent stomach and a curling red beard hanging low to the wide, colorful sash wrapped around his waist. Tuck in one side of his waist was a giant sledged hammer, two pistols were tucked in the front, and the other side held a sword. This couldn't be anyone else but the captain of this ship. He took in the sight of Wolfgang slowly getting to his feet, Arnold still on the ground, and Helga flushed with anger with her sword unsheathed.

"Helga!" The captain barked, "What is the rule regarding weapons on board?"

Helga huffed and re-sheathed her sword. "While on deck, no weapons are to be allowed in fights unless in battle."

The captain nodded and turned to examine Arnold, "Now just who is this young man?"

"Sir," Arnold stood up to face him down the best he could, considering the man easily towered over him, "I baronet Arnold Shortman, governor of Port Hillwood which your crew recently plundered. Now I don't have to remind you that piracy is a treasonous crime punishable by hanging, but if you return me to Port Hillwood, and return any goods you may have stolen, I will show you mercy."

At the end of his speech, all three of them went quiet. Then the captain and Wolfgang burst into laughter while Helga merely shook her head.

"Show us mercy?" The captain thundered, "This puny runt is going to show us mercy? Ha!"

He clapped Arnold hard between the shoulders making him fall over again. Arnold bit his lip and got back to his feet yet again. He was getting very tired with being knocked down and shoved.

"Now," The captain turned Helga and Wolfgang, "who wants to tell me why Governor Shortman is aboard my ship and not the wealthy Lloyd family?"

Helga and Wolfgang shifted uncomfortably and gave each other annoyed looks.

"Blame quartermaster here," Helga gestured at Wolfgang, "He's second in command, it's his fault they screwed up."

"You were the one who was supposed to find out where they were in the first place!" He shot back, "According to Harold and Curly, the family was long gone before we even got there."

"I know they were there, I tracked them for two whole months! They should have looked harder."

"Well maybe your tracking skills were a bit off."

"Well maybe your brains are a bit off!"

"Enough!" The captain thundered and turned to Helga, "What do you mean, 'they should have looked harder'? Where were you?"

Helga looked away. "I was attending to something… important."

"Ah, so it's your fault then."

"What!? No, I-"

"And as punishment, he is your responsibility until I decide otherwise," The captain took hold of the rope still bounding Arnold's wrists and handed the end to her, "Just like that useless cabin boy you just had to bring on."

Helga flushed angrily but didn't argue back. Satisfied, the captain then turned to Arnold.

"For your sake, let's hope your port is willing to pay a handsome ransom for you," he laughed, "Because I don't think she'll treat you as well as she treats him."

"Captain Roth!" Someone called from above them. Looking up, Arnold could see someone in the crow's nest waving to get the captain's attention, "floundering ship off the port bow!"

A look of mild concern crossed the captain's face, "Wolfgang, get the crew ready to board. Helga, secure your captive so he doesn't get away."

Wolfgang nodded and walked away shouting orders to the pirates. Helga grumbled in annoyance and tied the end of Arnold's rope to her belt. Arnold could feel the excitement in the air and an anxious knot began to form in his stomach. Were they about to attack some poor, unsuspecting ship? Was there anything Arnold could do to escape or even warn them? He glanced at the rope holding him to Helga. How tight was that knot exactly?

But before Arnold could decide if he even wanted to try escaping, the ship gave a sudden lurch as it change direction and speed. Barely used to the gentle rocking of the ship, Arnold now completely lost his footing and stumbled into Helga, making them both fall over. Helga cried out as she hit the hard wood, but Arnold landed on something much softer. His face flamed in embarrassment even as he took in the strangely sweet scent.

"You don't even have a second to get off me."

Her voice was deadly seriously and Arnold immediately struggled to get up, but with wrists bound, couldn't push himself up without grabbing something that would get him gutted on the spot. But the problem was solved for him when Helga roughly flipped them around so that she was straddling his waist and pinned down his throat with her hand. One nail traced the cut on his jaw. Arnold went rigid, too afraid to move or even apologize.

"You're lucky I can't kill you yet," She growled, her eyes blazing, "Or they would have to scrub your blood from this deck."

Arnold repressed a shiver and nodded. He knew that now was definitely not the time for sarcasm. Helga smirked at his discomfort and removed herself, roughly yanking him back to his feet. When Arnold was finally able to breathe, he glanced over her shoulder to see that Wolfgang was giving him a nasty look.

The ship shifted again as it pulled up to the floundering ship. Up close the half sunken ship was still smoldering. Pieces of wreckage littered the dark water, tinged with red. A black and green shredded flag drifted in the water. Captain Roth's face was somber as he surveyed the wreckage. Everyone was nearly silent. Arnold wanted more than anything to look away; the last thing he wanted was to witness the brutality of pirates first hand. He didn't want to see them plunder this poor unfortunate ship and possibility take more prisoners or lives. But then Captain Roth said something that surprised him.

"Search for survivors!" He shouted, "take anyone you can onboard. Take care for the injured!"

Several crew members, ropes secured around their waists, rappelled off the sides and masts of the ship, making their way carefully down. There was barely a foot hold for them to stand on. A couple of them slipped and landed in the water. Blood left a pink tint on their clothes. Arnold felt his stomach heave and he dropped to his knees, emptying his stomach over the railing. What he thought was wreckage were also dismembered limbs.

"Dad-er, Captain!" Wolfgang called up, "It's the same as the last three."

Arnold's head started to come up but Helga forced his shoulders down again with her foot.

"Don't look," She warned.

"Why?"

He glanced up at her and saw that her face was grim. "Heads," She whispered, "Wolfgang found heads. The captain, quartermaster, and the first mate. Same as the last three."

Arnold bowed his head again bit his stomach was empty. Eventually Captain Roth realized the ship was lost and gave everyone the signal to come back to the ship. There was a gentle tug on his rope and he looked up to see Helga looking at him. He could have been seeing things, but he could have sworn there was pity in her eyes.

But when she spoke, her words were harsh, "Get up. I'm putting you to work."

She gave his rope another harsh tug and pulled him to his feet. He walked behind her obediently, too weak to argue or put up a fight. She led him to another section of the ship and through a door. Arnold blinked at the sudden change of light, but this room wasn't as dark as below deck. He recognized the room as a kitchen, surprisingly clean but cramped full of food, cookware, a large stove, and a large sink. Harold and the guy Arnold only knew as his other captor were sitting at the table, peeling potatoes and cleaning knives respectively.

"Well look what the felus catus dragged in," the red leather framed pirate smiled as brightly as the knives he was polishing.

"Can it, Curly." Helga said shortly, and shoved Arnold into a chair, "Harold, fix blondie a cup of my special tea. He lost his lunch over the side of the ship."

Harold grumbled in annoyance but did as she asked. Arnold glanced up at Helga feeling a small touch of suspicion and confusion. Was she actually being nice to him or was this a trick? But Helga wasn't laughing or smiling when she sat down next to him and turned her attention to Curly.

"Vincent est de nouveau en movement," She said in a low voice, "Tout l'équipage mort et démembré. Signature de Vincent."

Arnold tensed with shock when he realized that she was speaking in perfect French. Having been trained in several languages since he became governor, he caught the words 'dead', 'dismembered' and the name Vincent.

Curly nodded, "Ce n'était qu'une question de temps. La vipère aime frapper."

'Matter of time'. 'Viper'….something. Arnold opened his mouth to ask but Harold interrupted him.

"Why do you guy have to talk in that fancy weird language?" He complained, coming back to the table with Arnold's tea, "You know I can't understand that stuff."

Helga cast a swift glance at Arnold before answering him, "We'll hold a conference later. Everything is still need to know only. Now, I brought Lord Governor here to make him useful. After he finishes his tea make him wash those dishes and this time don't let him escape."

Her last statement was punctuated with such a fierce glare that Harold and even Curly looked abashed and nodded meekly.

"Good," Helga stood up and gave Arnold one last look before leaving.

Arnold watched her leave and didn't realize how fast his heart was beating until it finally slowed down. He blamed it on the day's excitement and took a tentative sip of the hot, steaming tea. The sweet, sharp of peppermint washed over his tongue and his stomach finally started to settle. He took another, longer sip and glanced up to see Harold and Curly staring at him.

Harold looked mildly annoyed while Curly broke into a huge grin and held out his hand. "Welcome to the good ship Fox Hole."

A/N- Helga and Curly's conversation:

"Vincent is on the move again. All crew dead and dismembered. Vincent's signature."

"It was only a matter of time. The viper loves to strike."

If anyone needs to know, Arnold is 20, Helga is 19, Wolfgang is in his twenties, and Harold and Curly are around 18, 19