"Why didn't you tell me Papa was a fugitive?"
The question tumbled out of Killian's mouth a year after they'd been aboard the ship. The Jewel of The Realm was docked at a merchant port along the Northern coast. The crew was to take its leave of absence whilst the Captain received new orders from their King. It was their first time they were entrusted aboard the ship by themselves and Liam was determined to keep it in tip top ship, which was why he was on all fours on deck scrubbing with all of his might at the wooden decks.
Something had been bothering Killian for a long time, despite the eleven year old's best attempts to hide it. He'd been quieter lately, asking fewer questions and there was this distance look in his eyes.
Liam brought himself into a kneeling position and said, "It wasn't any kind of secret."
Killian did a slight dance, bouncing back and forth on his tiny legs. "Then why haven't you mentioned it before?"
Their father had been a good man, a loving man who liked to hoist Liam onto his shoulders and parade him around their small town. People greeted him with a kind smile and a hello, they respected him and Davy always made it point to proudly introduce his "little man". The inhabitants of the town in a cheery voice would inquire if Liam would follow in his daddy's footsteps and join the King's navy and with a pride smile, sucking in his gut and trying to stand as tall as possible Liam said yes one of these days I'll be Captain just like Daddy was.
"I don't know." Liam answered.
Killian narrowed his eyes accusingly as he folded his arms across his chest. "You wanted me to sound like some sort of dupe?" he began to pace forward proclaiming, "a dimwitted child praising a man wanted for things of the most bad form, thievery and treachery against His Highness!"
Ever the dramatic his brother, Liam had to fight the urge to chuckle at his antics.
"Think this is funny?"
"No. Of course not, little brother," Liam assured quickly. "It's just you were-are so young. That's a hard truth to consume."
Their mother lived for a week after Killian was born. Feverish and in agony she begged and pleaded with Davy to go on, to love and raise her children with the uttermost care, attention and devotion. Liam was four then and terrified he listened from outside of the door, pressing his ear to it and desperately trying to block out the sound of the screeching from the tiny red thing that mother said was his little baby brother, Killian. One morning she took her last breath and closed her eyes never to open them again. Their father was never the same after they put her into the ground.
"But a truth I deserved to know."
"Yes." Liam agreed. "He, our father, was once a good man. A good man who fell into crime and performed things you call the most bad from. But his doings do not and will not define us. We'll make a name for ourselves, the Jones brothers. We'll redeem our family."
"Yes we shall."
"Go and finish your duties."
It was a daunting task to think about. The Jones name once was tarnished by the wrongdoings of their father, it only seemed fit they would amend that. Everything Matthias had taught him, he made an effort of teaching Killian who was and would always be his second in command.
Sometimes in the dead of the night when many of the crew was slumbering and the task of getting into harbor was left with him, he let Killian steer, but only for a little. His brother tended to have a narrow tunnel vision only starring at what was clearly in front of him. A sailor had to make an effort of looking everywhere for any sort of wave that could cause the ship damage or potentially send them overboard and for any enemies whether they are ships or creatures from the deep. One of the sailors Denny liked to tell the tale of when his previous ship was cracked in half by an angered Cyclops. Everyone aboard perished but Denny somehow someway managed to swim against the treacherous currents of the Dead Man's Sea to make it to land. The sincerity of his tale was uncertain but unnatural things did sometimes occur aboard ship.
It was eerily quiet in the underbelly of the ship where the two brothers munched upon stale hard biscuits. They sit upon the stiff bottom bunk they'd been sharing. The hammock that had once been their bed was still left assembled in the corner of the room. No one had bothered to touch it.
"Aren't they supposed to be back by now?" Killian inquired his voice varying slightly. He was gradually pulling apart pieces of his biscuit and eating them piece by tiny little piece, a habit he'd developed a long time ago from their street days when they tried to make every bit of food last as long as possible.
Liam gulped down the rest of his biscuit before mumbling, "Perhaps their meeting went longer than they thought. Matthias said the King tends to ramble on about pointless things."
Killian didn't look the less bit convinced but didn't say anything more to press it. It was getting much later than Everett and Matthias had predicted but there could be many reasons for it. The King was a rambler, the crew liked to drink on their nights off or perhaps they were having trouble returning to the docks. It'd been steadily snowing and horses were dumb witted animals that grew weary and jumpy when they couldn't see their own hooves buried in the snow. That must be it, Liam reasoned with himself whilst trying to ignore the growing pit in his stomach.