The Fox Hole was fully watered and all repairs had been made. The fallen masts had been restored to their rightful positions and the ripped sails had been replaced. Arnold, Brian, and Helga sat together on the Heyerdahl's roof watching the Fox Hole bob gently away from the docks. The crew must have been rowing or caught a sideways current because the sails were closed and they moved against the weak wind.

"Are you sure it's alright that we stayed behind?" Arnold asked, "Doesn't a ship need the entire crew?"

"Relax my lord, we aren't going far," Helga stood up, making Arnold's chest constrict in fear. She seemed to have no heed for her safety though and held a hand out to help Brian up. "They're just going up the coast a bit. Captain Roth wants to visit dear old wifey outside the port."

"Captain Roth has a wife?"

"That's what I said."

Arnold carefully stood up too and made his way to the window, following Helga and Brian inside the house. "If he has a wife then why doesn't she sail with us- um, I mean, you?"

"Not built for a life of piracy I suppose," Helga shrugged with a smirk, "Not all women are like yours truly."

"No woman is like you, my lady." He responded with a fond smile.

Brian made a gagging noise and mimicked throwing up. Helga chuckled and ruffled his hair. The three of them headed downstairs where the Heyerdahl's were minding the shop and keeping the hearth burning bright. Helga shared a tearful farewell (at least on Phoebe's end) with the family and re-sheathed her newly repaired sword.

"We have something for you as well, my lord," Mr. Heyerdahl handed him a long packaged wrapped in brown cloth. "Please, accept it as a token of friendship from our family."

Arnold took the package with trembling hands and slowly unwrapped it. He knew even before the last strip of cloth came away what it was. The handle was dark gleaning wood and burnished red leather. The sheath black leather with a red shoulder strap. The sword was almost silent as he unsheathed it, the broad blade shone a dark silver. The crest of a fox tail was engraved beautifully at the base. Arnold felt tears bead in his eyes as he carefully re-sheathed it and strapped it over his back.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, "I shall treasure this always."

"May we meet again in the future."

Arnold started to bow to them, but the family stepped forward and wrapped him in a loving hug. The tears finally spilled over Arnold's cheeks as he hugged them back.

"Alright, that's enough you saps," Helga chuckled as they broke apart, "We have to get going before Captain Roth gets impatient and threatens to keel-haul us again."

With a final tearful goodbye, extra snacks, promises over and over again to visit soon, they finally made their way outside where Captain Roth and Wolfgang were waiting in a single horse wagon loaded with goods. Helga was right, the captain was anxious to get going and so was Wolfgang. The fit was tight but comfortable with the captain riding the reins, Wolfgang in the seat beside him, and Helga and Arnold sandwiching Brian between them in the back. As the wagon rattled up the road, and Port Providence began to grow smaller as they left it behind, Arnold felt content but didn't know why. They were soon to leave civilization, to another place unknown perhaps, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of total and absolute peace.

Gerald was in a state of total and complete agitation. The ship had slowed to a crawl, the wind had died down and the current was not swift. The sun was beginning to set over the horizon setting the ocean ablaze in reds and oranges, but Gerald wasn't interested in enjoying the view. The only thing he was interested in seeing was the sight of Port Providence growing larger as they neared it. The hackles on the back of his neck stood up. Port Providence was known as Pirate Haven for a reason. A town of nothing but debauchery, depravity, and worst of all pirates, the scum of the seas. The thought of his best friend, a man without a single vice in the world, being held captive, maybe even tortured there made Gerald's blood boil. His hatred for pirates had been reignited. When he found the blasted pirates that took his best friend, his brother for Pete's sake, he was going to make them pay. He was going to make all those sons of whores pay.

"Ugh!" Gerald groaned in frustration and forced himself to move away from the railing.

They were getting closer but he was becoming more anxious. He was starting to be able to see the ships at the docks. But it was getting dark soon too. If a town like this wasn't dangerous enough already, it was probably twice as dangerous at night. Gerald couldn't care less, but there was the possibility that the Commodore might deem landing right away as an unnecessary risk and might wait to dock in the morning.

"I can't let him," Gerald decided, "I have to convince him to push forward."

He walked with determination and purpose off the deck and below, heading to the commodore's personal office. Just as he feared, most of the crew appeared to be either asleep or settling down for the night. They didn't look anywhere near the fierce and efficient navy men ready to take back a governor from loathsome pirates. The door to the commodore's office was cracked. Gerald took a breath to give himself a calmer and more professional appearance and lifted his hand to knock.

"This is unacceptable," The commodore's voice was cold and angry, "What do you mean the Black Viper isn't docked here?"

"Our lookout hadn't spotted their ship at the docks yet," Captain Douglas answered, "Perhaps they're running a bit behind schedule. I'm sure we can accommodate for the-"

"No, no, no, the timing would be off," Commodore Bassett growled in frustration, "Vincent was supposed to have killed those blasted foxes by now! And that foolish governor with them!"

Gerald stifled a gasp. His stomach dropped and his blood went cold. He couldn't have heard that right. It just wasn't- it didn't possibly make sense-

"It could be possible to rescue the governor and achieve the same results," Captain Douglas suggested.

There was the sound of a lot of small objects hitting the floor, "Not good enough! A rescue is mundane, but a martyr is what we need to garner support. With the death of that naïve, foolish governor, the whole world I'll be begged to relieve the world of pirates for good."

There was a pause and then a weary sigh, "We'll have to wait for Vincent then. Turn us parallel with the currents. And if he doesn't have the skill to do it, I suppose I'll have to take a blade to Governor Shortman myself."

Thick, acidic bile rose up Gerald's throat and his hand went to his sword hilt. There was nothing he wanted more at this moment than to run Commodore Bassett through and then fling his corpse over for the fish to consume the remains. But he had something more important to do. He moved with new purpose, time was now of the essence. The first stars were beginning to come out by the time he made his way on deck. The ship was still moving but he knew that once the commodore's order went out they would stall.

"Heya Gerald," A familiar twang called out, "Oh, I mean, sir Johanssen."

Gerald looked over to see Stinky and Sid scrubbing the deck. No one else seemed to be around. Perfect. He forced himself to walk over to them calmly just in case, leaned against the railing and spoke in a low voice.

"You two, keep doing what you're doing and listen up."

Stinky and Sid tensed and gave him confused looks but obeyed.

"That bastard the commodore plans on killing Arnold," Gerald's fists clenched, dropping all formal pretense, "And as much as I would love string Bassett up myself, we might have a chance to save Arnold."

"But why would the commodore want to kill Governor Arnold?" Sid asked, "Isn't he on our side?"

"I don't care to know the reason why," Gerald growled and moved with purpose to the lifeboats, "But what I need you two to do right now is to cover me. I'm getting off this ship so I can warn him. Think you two can handle that?"

"Aye, aye sir."

"You got it, buddy."

Sid and Stinky both saluted him without hesitation, but Gerald had no question of their loyalty. Even with their bumbling, laziness, and general idiocy, he knew that their hearts were always good.

Armed with only his rifle and sword at his side, Gerald climbed into an unguarded lifeboat and began to lower himself into the water. Sid and Stink began talking loudly beside the railing about nothing in particular in order to drown out the sound of the rope and pulleys. Despite his urgency, Gerald slowed down in order to set the boat as gently as possible into the water. This would be the most difficult part. If anyone were to look out of their port window, they would surely see his boat. He would also have to mind the splash of the oars on the water. But the risk of being caught was worth it for his best friend.

While the ship was close enough to see the docks of Pirate Haven, they hadn't yet broken over the calm breakers. So the choppy waves had their way his small craft. Many a time did Gerald thought he would be swallowed by the dark waters. His arms strained with the effort it took to row through them. He nearly went under, but finally broke through and began to glide on the calmer waters. Gerald glanced back at the naval, tall and imposing in the rapidly fading light. There didn't seem to be any movement onboard, no alarming lights, so he felt a sense of relief that his escape hadn't been detected.

"Hold on, buddy," He whispered, "I'm coming."

Captain Roth's wife, Shelia Roth, was a large buxom woman with a cloud of curly, light blonde hair. She greeted her husband at the door with a scream as loud as his yell and they embraced with an intensity of two colliding mountains, with poor Wolfgang caught in the middle. Her reception was less warm to Helga. She scooped up a squirming Brian and nearly crushed him. And Arnold she seemed genuinely confused by.

"Who in Davy Jone's Locker is this?" She said peering at him.

Arnold smiled at her and began to bow, "Ma'am, my name is-"

Shelia made a noise with her teeth and roughly grabbed him by the arm, yanking him to her for closer inspection. She kept tsking with her tongue and examined his arms, the top of his head end, and behind his ears.

"This is the scrawniest, supple-skinned pirate that I've ever seen," She declared and gave Arnold a slap on the rear.

"Hey!" Arnold blushed scarlet, "Madam!"

"Watch, it Shelia," Helga growled, her hand going to the dagger on her hip.

Mrs. Roth ignored them both and turned to her husband, "Where did you find this sorry excuse for a pirate, dear? Or is he meant to be shark meat?"

Wolfgang snickered, "Good one, mom."

"Hush boy," Captain Roth smacked his son upside the head before answering his wife, "That lad is a governor of a poky little port. He's supposed to fetch me a neat little ransom but his port is playing cheap with me. So, I've had him earn his keep and his life."

"Ha! Work? What work can this puny runt do?" Shelia laughed and slapped him hard on the back, making him stumble.

Arnold had the grace to attempt to laugh off her mocking but Helga looked ready to snap. Her hand still hadn't moved from her dagger.

"Aye! I'll tell ye, my love, there was a time where I thought I would have to throw the lab overboard," He laughed and also clapped Arnold on the back making him actually fall. "But wife, I have worked up a mighty appetite that only your cooking can sate."

"The roast is just about ready. We shall sup and you can tell me all about it husband."

Roth family began to move into the dining room, laughing and chattering. Helga came over to Arnold as he struggled to stand up and catch his breath again. She didn't move to help him up but wore as fond look in her eyes as she smiled down at him.

"For what it's worth, my lord," She giggled, "I think you've come a long way from being the runt you were before we captured you."

Arnold rolled his eyes but stood up with a smile, "You flatter me, my lady."

They joined the others at the table as Mrs. Roth was serving dinner. A large roast, so large that Arnold could only imagine how big the creature it came from must have been, sat in the center. The dish was flanked by platters of vegetables and a mountain of bread rolls.

"This meal is huge," Arnold whispered to Helga as they sit down, "Does she cook like this every night?"

"Only when the captain comes to visit," Helga whispered back, "We come about the same time every year. If we're off by a day or two her house becomes a tavern and sells the food. Then she starts over. Apparently, the town goes crazy over her meals. I think they're alright."

Dinner was soon served and Arnold learned first-hand that Helga wasn't giving Mrs. Roth her due. Maybe it was the weeks he spent at sea, eating nothing but hardtack and salty sea stew, but after one bite, Arnold found himself ravenous. Being the governor of a struggling port, Arnold ate well enough, but not to the extent he knew that other governors probably enjoyed. His food was refined and delicate, this food was hearty and rich. Arnold tried hard to retain his noble mannerisms, but in truth the only one who really ate with a modem of decorum was Helga. Arnold's only saving grace may have been that he at least wasn't eating with their mouth full.

Over the meal, Captain Roth regaled his wife with the adventures of the Fox Hole. Sieges and battles, victories and defeats. Although far from the most notorious or largest group of pirates, Arnold did learn that the Fox Hole crew was pretty well known for being one of the more elusive pirate crews in these sees. Not only were they known for their fierce fighting and reckless sailing, but they had an ace up their sleeve; Helga. As it turned out, Helga often helped to supplement the pirates' haul by sneaking into towns, blending in, and stealing away with goods with none the wiser. So many things finally began to click in Arnold's mind. Her disappearance from the ship only to come back with goods, her being so sure that the Lloyds were in Port Hillwood. Arnold stared at Helga in shock. How had he not noticed her? Lady Roth though was less impressed.

"Hmph, common thievery if you ask me," Mrs. Roth scoffed, "And little good it did ye. The Lloyds would have been a fine catch for a ransom. Instead, you're saddled with a paltry governor of a paltry port."

Helga exploded, slamming her hands on the table, "Shelia! I swear to Davy Jones-"

"That'll be a swear you can take to his face, lassy!" Mrs. Roth screamed back.

"Peace to ye both lassies," Captain Roth laughed at them both. He turned to his wife with a loving smile, "My love, it wasn't all for naught. The lad proved more useful than he looks. It was because of him we were able to escape the clutches of a massive storm."

The way Captain Roth retold the events, Arnold had been eagled eyed and intuitive during the storm. He had been the resolute, but calm voice amidst the chaos of the storm. Arnold struggled not to laugh at the inaccurate rendition. All Arnold remembered of the event was the horrified awe he felt at the sheer power of the storm and the fear he felt at the thought of losing Helga. When Captain Roth finished his story though, he fixed Arnold with a thoughtful look. After a moment he nodded to himself and slammed his fist on the table.

"Aye! You!" Captain Roth jabbed a meaty finger at Arnold, "Come with me lad."

Arnold glanced at Helga nervously and she gave him a bored half- shrug. Captain Roth gave him no time to ask questions though. He stood up from the table, plucked Arnold out of his seat, and carted him upstairs.

"Boy, Imma tell you something that I don't tell a lot of people," the captain said as they climbed a rickety spiral staircase, "Because I don't see a lot of people who have this. But you've got a gift."

"A gift for what sir?" Arnold panted trying to keep up with him. The stairs seemed to climb higher and higher and creaked under the captain's heavy steps.

"Knowing the seas, boy!"

Captain Roth flung open a door at the top of the staircase, revealing a room full of maps. Maps pinned to the walls. Maps hanging off strings off the ceiling. And in the center of the room, was a large circular table covered with more maps.

Arnold found himself truly speechless. A pang of homesickness and nostalgia, struck him so sharply and so deeply, that he staggered and tears nearly came to his eyes. But he wasn't thinking about his governor's mansion in Hillwood. He was thinking about his real home, and how his parents would have loved to have had a room like this. He already loved this room.

Captain Roth nodded, looking at his expression, "Aye, that's the look. The look of a man who hungers to explore. To know the seas without taming her. An eye for the shifting winds and the ever-changing tide. You ain't worth two spits as a pirate, but with some training, you might have some salt as a sailor. Now let's see just how much you know."

Every eye was on him and every one of those eyes was hostile. Gerald kept his head up though, and his hand on his sword hilt as he looked around. The tavern was crowded and loud. Men and boys were drinking, fighting, playing cards, or passed out. Some of the women gave him coy looks, others dirty sneers. He knew that his uniform, however, frayed it was, was giving him away, but he never thought to sneak in with civilian clothes. He didn't think he needed to. He was supposed to have an armada with him to rescue Arnold. Not sneaking around a filthy tavern surrounded by loathsome pirates. If it was up to him, he'd haul every mother's son of them to the gallows.

"But it isn't up to me," He sighed in frustration and sank into a chair in the corner, "Thanks to that traitor Basset, I have to save Arnold alone. I'll worry about getting us home later."

And the sooner the better. Gerald kept a careful eye around him, trying to spot or at least recognize any of the pirates that tried to destroy his home. But at first glance, he could see it wasn't much use. Aside from the large, blonde pirate that knocked him out, Gerald couldn't remember what a single one of them looked like. All pirates looked the same to him. Filthy, uncultured, dishonorable men. The women that followed them weren't much better either. Two of them, their dresses half falling off, were trying to help some poor drunken fool up the steps. Typical. Gerald rolled his eyes and continued looking around until something not so typical caught his eye. A girl, pale skinned with raven hair, also sat alone at a table. Unlike Gerald, she was looking around her with a small smile as if amused by the ruckus. Her gaze shifted to him and he let his eyes pass away coldly. Cute or not, he had no time to waste on pirate sympathizers.

"Can I get you something, sir?"

Gerald looked up to see another cute girl, young with freckles and red hair, smiling down at him. She looked so much softer than some of these other women, that he almost asked what she was doing in a tavern like this until his eyes fell unto her wooden leg. Poor thing probably had no choice but to accept this wretched life.

"Some ale or some company perhaps?" The barmaid continued, "You look lonely."

Gerald nodded, "That's because I'm looking for my friend. His name is Arnold Shortman, governor of Port Hillwood."

"A governor huh?" The girl's innocent expression suddenly became guarded despite her friendly smile, "We don't get a lot of those out here. You sure he came this way?"

"Pretty sure," Gerald narrowed his eyes. Guess this girl wasn't as innocent as she looked. "He was kidnapped recently by a group of pirates. Ones with an orange fox on their flag. Have you seen any of them recently?"

The barmaid's smile became forced and her gaze darted to his navy insignia and back at him, "No sorry. I'll go get you some ale."

She started to walk away but Gerald grabbed her arm, "Wait a minute." He stood up slowly, hoping to intimidate her with his height, "Look, miss, I get that you feel like you have no choice but to protect these cretins. But I need to find Governor Shortman. He's in grave danger and he has to be warned before he finds him."

There was a gasp behind him, and Gerald turned to see the cute Asian girl behind him holding a large dagger.

"Arnold's in danger?" She asked in genuine concern, "By whom? Who's after him?"

"A naval commodore by the name of Gabriel Bassett." Gerald eyed the knife in her hand and let go of the barmaid. He had no doubt that this girl had snuck up on him with the intention of doing him harm with that knife in her hand. He eyed her warily. "If you know the whereabouts of the pirates who took him, I need you to tell me now."

The girl rose an eyebrow and her grip on her dagger tightened, "Excuse me, but I need you to change your tone of voice sir. You are addressing a lady."

"A lady?" Gerald leveled her glare with a glare of his own, "A true lady wouldn't dain to spend her time here."

"Will both of you stop it!" The barmaid suddenly stepped between them. She turned to the dark-haired girl, "If sir Arnold really is in danger it could mean Helga is too. We have to help him."

The girl sighed in annoyance but re-sheathed her dagger, "As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. But we'll have to hurry. They left town earlier today but I can take you to them."

Gerald took a moment to close his eyes feeling a wave of pure relief. Once again, he was getting closer to finding his best friend. He wasn't too late.

"I thank you, but your accompaniment will not be necessary," He said opening his eyes again, "This venture is not suitable for a lady."

The dark-haired girl chuckled and Gerald once again was struck with how surprisingly cute she was.

"I thought I wasn't a lady," she smiled and nudged his arm, "Common, I have a cart and horse back at my home."

Gerald frowned in annoyance but had no choice but to follow her. He only hoped that she wouldn't turn around and stab him in the back later. Like an honorless pirate sympathizer would.

The moonlight danced on the water as they walked down the beach. They had left Shelia Roth's house some time ago as everyone readied for bed. Helga had elected to take a nighttime stroll. They were to set sail in the morning and she had no idea when they would see land again.

"You should have seen this room, my lady," Arnold gushed, "The captain must have collected maps from all over the known world! Do you know if he drew them all or did he collect them?"

Helga shrugged, smiling as if amused by his enthusiasm, "As far as I know, Roth has never drawn a map in his life. Every time we get lost, he blames me for screwing up the map."

Arnold's jaw dropped and he stared at her with wide eyes, "You draw maps, my lady?"

"Ha! Not if I can help it!" She snorted, "I push it off on Edmund as much as I can. You seem to enjoy it though. You two were up in that room for a while."

"I do, I love it!" Arnold sighed wistfully, "Sailing the seas untethered. Exploring lands unknown and leaving a guide for people to follow after. That sounds like the life."

Helga hummed and they walked in silence for a while. Arnold took in the beauty around them. The waves gave a soft, steady hum as they crashed onto the shore. He carried his shoes in one hand as he bare feet sank into the sand. He glanced over at his companion and felt his heart flutter. She claimed that she wanted to enjoy some solitude before being trapped in a crowded vessel again and was allowing Arnold to tag along. But Arnold secretly hoped that she had ulterior motives.

"My lady," he ventured softly, "may I have the pleasure of holding your hand?"

A light blush spread across her face and she nodded, staring straight ahead of her. Arnold reached across and took her hand in his, threaded their fingers together. Once again, a comfortable silence enveloped them. He caressed her hand with his thumb and heard her give a tiny sigh. Arnold took another look around them. They were alone. Mrs. Roth's house and the Fox Hole had all but disappeared behind them. An opportunity like this may never come again on the crowded ship. Now was a good a time as ever.

"My lady," Arnold cleared his throat, "there's um, something I wish to discuss with you."

"Ohh, so formal," Helga started to smirk, "this must be serious."

"I am being serious," Arnold stopped so he could look her in the eye, "Captain Roth offered me a permanent position on the ship."

The smirk on Helga's face froze and her eyes widened.

"But I can't just abandon my port," Arnold added quickly with a sigh of frustration, "They need me and-"

"Then go back to them," Helga snatched her hand from his and started walking. "There, problem solved."

"But I need you!" Arnold called after her.

Helga stopped walking and he heard her sharp intake of breath. She didn't turn around though so he laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Her eyes were moist, glistening in the moonlight but her expression was sharp, waiting. She looked absolutely beautiful.

"My lady," Arnold shook his head, no more formality, "Helga. The time I spent with you has been invaluable beyond words. You've opened my eyes to feelings and experiences I never thought possible. And I can no longer imagine a life without you in it."

Arnold's hands slid from her shoulder to waist, pulling her close to wrap his arms around her. She yielded to his embrace, placing her hands on his chest, and continued staring up at him.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, "I love you Helga, and I want you to come back with me."

Helga gave a tiny repressed sob and lowered her gaze, "Brian-"

"He can come too," Arnold held her tighter, "We'll adopt him. He'll be safe and happy with us. I want to give you anything your heart desires. I want to give you the world."

Helga's teeth sank into her lower lip. A lone tear escaped and ran down her face as she lifted her gaze back to him.

"I can't," She said, her voice firm but sad, "As much as I... love you too, I can't just leave with you. You say you want to give me the world, but what I need is to be free."

She started to move away from him, but Arnold only held her tighter, a grin beginning to stretch his face. She loved him! She actually said she loved him!

"And you shall have your freedom," Arnold pressed his lips to her forehead, "Come home with me and I'll give you a ship of your own," He pressed another kiss to her eyelid, "And your own crew," A kiss to her other eyelid, "Just say you'll make your home with me. If I can be with you, even for just a little while at a time, I shall be truly happy."

"Arnold," His name fell as a whispered rush from her lips as his mouth descended onto hers. He opened her mouth with his, tasting her, devouring her. Helga moaned in approval, sliding her hands up into his hair.

This kiss was something deeper than their kiss in the alleyway. Tender with their newly requited love and quickly slipping into unbridled passion. Her tongue slid along his, making him shiver. This time, his hands were unrestrained so there was nothing to stop him from grabbing a fist full of that golden hair of hers and pulling her head back to expose her throat to him. Her lips broke from his with a gasp which quickly turned into a moan as he trailed open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

"Arnold," she whispered his name again, "oh, my love. My love. My passion burns for thee. My very soul craves you. You are the part of me I never knew was missing. My love, my greatest desire is thee."

A growl issued from deep with Arnold's throat, something he didn't even know was possible. There was just something about her poetry with the taste of her skin on his lips, that ignited something fiery and almost primal from deep within him. Before he could stop himself, his teeth sank into her collarbone making her cry out.

"Sorry," he quickly began soothing the bite with his tongue, "Your poetry just does something to me. I forget myself, my lady."

"Does it now?" Helga tugged his head up from the crook of her neck and fixed him with a mischievous, misty-eyed look, "My love, my heart for thee beats true. The nectar of your lips. The endless jade sea of your eyes. My heart, my soul, I give to you. Our only witness, the stars above, as we affirm our passions in the act of love."

Arnold's eyes widened and his heart leaped into his throat. He tightened his grip on her waist as if trying to hold on to his last shred of the gentleman within him. But his resistance was fast waning.

"My lady," he licked his dry lips, "are you sure?"

Helga smirked and tugged his lips back to hers. Arnold groaned, his eyes slid shut, and they sank into the sand together.