The captain stood on the gently rolling quarterdeck a mug of strong black tea gripped in her hand. The sun had never dipped below the horizon, and she knew this because she had seen its journey in its entirely. Her head pounded like someone was tightening a band of iron around it, her eyes squinted against the brightening sun, and her stomach rumbled ominously rebelling against the three cups of tea she had consumed already.

"Morning, Captain," Lieutenant Smythe said touching his hat. The captain nodded affirmatively and tried another sip of tea. "Good luck, the berth opening up."

"Indeed," Fitzwilliam replied, but she wondered if it was all that lucky. They were moving into a berth at the far dock. Apparently that wretched Baron had been tossed out of Arendelle last night, so there was now enough room for the Vigilant. She would have gloated except for her fear that they would be next. Bloody hell, she thought, and then there was the Duke – it was going to be a long day.

After she had left the ball she had headed to the local tavern to try to forget the fiasco that had just occurred. Some time later she had headed to another tavern further in town, but she only knew this from reports and very vague recollections. Fortunately it was then that Hanson found her. He reassured her that all of her clothing had been intact and more importantly on, and the charming young barmaid she had been cuddled up with was definitely of age. Hanson had gotten her back on the ship; she had managed to get herself cleaned up and in a fresh uniform just as the watch changed. Thank God, it had been Hanson, for if it had been a more junior officer she would have felt obliged to run on her sword like Brutus. Not that a quick end to it all wasn't still a temptation.

Familiar shouts rang out around her as lines were cast and tied. Hanson came over and gave her a far too cheerful grin. "We're coming in fine, Captain. It'll only be a couple of minutes before we all tied up safe and sound." He looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot. "The Duke's already on the dock hopping around like something's in his britches."

"Bloody hell," she said aloud this time.

"You want to tell me what's up, then Captain?"

"You don't know." Hanson shook his head, no. "Well that's a small reassurance." She beckoned him closer. "You know that idiot Gaul who sailed out last night, the Baron."

"Yeah, I heard he was involved in a row at the ball. Some fool challenged him, and they both were sent packing."

"Well, it was a fool but they both weren't sent away. One skulked out and spent the rest of the night trying to forget that she was a fool."

"Oh," Hanson did the math in his head. "Oh!" He winced the second time.

"I didn't say anything about it last night?"

Hanson hesitated. "Not about dueling, you didn't."

Fitzwilliam felt her stomach lurch."Oh God, what did I say?"

"Well," Hanson cleared his throat, "You seemed to be rather taken with the queen. And apparently she has eyes the color of the water off Bermuda, 'not the shallows, mind you," he said, clearly imitating her "'but after that first first drop off – just when the water's clearest and the white sand is still underneath.' You were adamant that the depth was between thirty feet to 8 fathoms."

"Bloody hell." Fitzwilliam clutched the mug in her left as she buried her face in her right hand.

"It was almost poetic, I mean from coming you. I actually think I understand the difference between palatinate and Persian blue, now. But, you were discrete. You weren't singing about it or anything."

"Bloody hell – I didn't actually sing did I?"

"No, young Brandy said you were a perfect gentleman all evening."

"Ah, well good that you got me out of there before she got a surprise."

"Didn't strike me that she would've minded it too much, Captain." Hanson gave her a smug grin.

There was a final bump as the ship settled into the dock. Then there was the scrape of the gangplank being lowered. She found herself praying that God, or whoever was presiding over this mess, gave her enough restraint and patience.

"Captain Fitzwilliam!"

She did not know how the Duke managed to have a voice both shrill and booming, but there it was ringing loud and clear.

Captain Fitzwilliam!"

She slowly stood and walked to the ladder to the main deck like she was walking to the guillotine. "Here, Your Grace."

Ledsham stomped over to the ladder and gestured below deck. "I need to speak with you privately. Now!"

The door to her cabin had just shut when the Duke began his tirade. Fitzwilliam found herself most grateful for that one courtesy.

"You and your clumsy lack of manners might have ruined our chances at this alliance. You challenged someone to a duel! Here? Now?" He started at full volume in the tiny cabin. Fitzwilliam's head rang, and she winced.

"I am sorry. It was a mistake."

"In FRONT of her Majesty!" The Duke managed to find room to move even closer, his index finger in her face.

"I apologize, Your Grace. It was wrong. I was wrong. It will not happen again."

The Duke kept on coming, pushing her further back into the small cabin. "It is not me you will apologize to. You will apologize to the queen. You will get down on your knees and beg her forgiveness. You will grovel. You will do whatever it takes for our negotiations to proceed with her favor. And you will do it now!"

"Of course, Your Grace. I ..."

The Duke suddenly reached across his chest and struck her with a stinging backhand to the face. "You forget who you are Captain," he spat. "I speak with the authority of the King on a matter that is of great importance to him. And if you jeopardize my mission here I will make sure that no matter who your patron is, no matter what alliances you have made at court, that you are disowned, court-martial-ed, whipped like the filthy dog you are, and thrown in prison to spend the rest of your miserable life there."

Fitzwilliam's head jerked back, her eyes flashing in anger. But she stuffed her fury with a grim nod of her head. "I understand, Your Grace. I will apologize to the queen." She pulled herself up into attention, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead like a midshipman being called out, and focused on breathing. "I will not jeopardize this mission. Of course, I understand its importance to Avalon. I will do whatever is necessary to make amends for my poor behavior." It was only after he left that she slammed her fist full on into the bulkhead.

Fitzwilliam stood in the antechamber to the queen's public reception rooms trying not to pace. Pacing was undignified. Unfortunately so was sleeping up against the wall, which was what she feared might happen if she didn't pace.

"Is it possible for someone else to help you, Captain," Kai said politely. "I am not sure the queen is receiving visitors immediately."

"I understand." The captain said glancing at the gold pocket watch in her hand and then returning it to her waistcoat. "I'll wait."

"Would you care to take a seat? It could be some time."

"No, thank you. I'll just wait."

He walked away, and she resumed her ruminations on the virtue of patience while pulling her pocket watch out to look again at the time. When she heard footsteps she thought it was probably the servant returning with more bad news, but it wasn't.

"We have the benches for a reason, you know."

"Thank you, but I'm … Your Highness." Fitzwilliam stopped in surprise mid-turn as she realized it was the princess.

"Hi," she waved. "So you're not going to sit down?"

"No thank you, Your Highness."

"Why not?"

That was not the response the Captain expected, and it took her a moment to come with a plausible response other than, 'Because I might start snoring.'

"I don't … I don't want my breeches to wrinkle."

The princess looked at her and nodded disbelievingly. "OK." The she continued, "Are you hungry, I can get something from the kitchens? I'm having lunch later with Elsa and some … I don't know ... I can't keep track of them anymore, and I don't think she can either … but I'm there to run interference, so it probably doesn't matter."

The captain felt like every time the princess spoke some dark underbelly of Arendellian society was exposed or at the very least a rather inappropriate level of detail about the royal family. It was disconcerting and left her not quite sure what to respond with. "Indeed."

"Oh, great!" Anna replied jauntily and before Fitzwilliam could correct herself, she popped off. Popped in an almost literal sense as the princess walked with a bounce in her step and more joy than anyone had a decent right to.

Fitzwilliam was surprised again when a short time later, she returned carrying a tray piled with an assortment of food. She had never seen a princess serving, and so confused, and attempting to be helpful and gallant, she rushed over to take the burden from her, which of course Anna didn't expect so she was thrown off balance. This led to a rather peculiar dance, a sort of tango with foodstuffs where the captain tried to balance the tray and the princess without dropping either. At last she got the tray on the bench without getting anything on herself or Her Highness.

"Thanks," the princess breathed. "So I didn't know what you'd want, but I brought a little of everything I saw. Well everything that would fit and wouldn't spill, although we had a close one there didn't we?" She gestured down at the tray, "Those rolls are filled with strawberry, they're great, but you might want to watch how you eat them." She gestured at a dim pink blotch that was centered right at her bust-line.

Fitzwilliam forced her eyes up. "Yes, your Highness. Um, thank you. This is far too kind."

"Well, you looked hungry."

"I'm not sure that I ..." but her effort to politely declined was sabotaged by her stomach growling loudly at the smell of the food.

"See, right on time." The princess pointed at the mug, "That's a small beer there."

"That's probably not a good idea ..." Fitzwilliam's protestations became mumbles as Anna stuck half a sandwich in her mouth.

Fitzwilliam chewed and then swallowed and then reached quickly for the beer. "What ..." she asked once she had taken a long drink, "what was that?"

"Pickled herring and lumpfish roe. You don't like it?"

"No, no it's fine. It was just a little unexpected -"

"Who doesn't eat fish for breakfast?" Anna asked incredulously. "Here, so try the roll," she picked up one of the strawberry buns she had warned about and thrust it at the captain. All Fitzwilliam could see was a large mass of gooey red jam squirting out and heading right for her white shirt. Quickly ducking and twisting her head she managed to get her mouth over that end of the roll covering the blob before it blobbed and bit off almost a third of the roll.

"Wow, that's impressive," the princess said with real admiration in her voice, "I've never managed to get quite that much in my mouth at once. I've tried. But you're a champ."

"S'ank yua" she mumbled grabbing a napkin off the tray and bringing it up to her lips. "Tasty," she said between gulps.

"More?" Anna asked, shoving the bun back at her.

"No, no ... I'm fine. That was wonderful." Fitzwilliam backed up before more dangerous leaking food could be waved at her uniform. They both looked down to where Anna brandished the bun like a weapon, and in a moment they were both laughing. Anna started first, and her laugh was loud and infectious, the captain just chuckled quietly.

"So why are you here?"

"To see the queen, Your Highness."

"Yes, I figured that. I mean you're here, and she's there, and you're waiting …. but I just wondered why?" Anna finished the question with an interesting overly innocent inflection.

Fitzwilliam considered her response, but the fact was that all hope of retaining her dignity today was long shredded. "I need to apologize."

"Why?"

Hesitation moved to disbelief. "For last night, for my behavior last night."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Anna said casually. "It was nothing."

"Begging Your Highness' pardon, it was not 'nothing'. It was a serious breech of manners, and I need to make amends."

"You can make all the amends you want," Anna chuckled. "But really it wasn't 'a thing.'" A pause. "She likes you, I think."

"What? Your Highness?" Fitzwilliam blinked and tried to follow the train of thought that led them here.

"She only danced with one person last night, and it was you. She seemed upset when you left. And while I still can't read her all the time she seemed … relaxed with you."

"I'm not sure what you mean." Fitzwilliam could see the swift stampede of inappropriateness thundering toward her, but she was powerless to stop it.

"My sister isn't good with people."

"Excuse me?" Fitzwilliam recollected the poised, confident woman she had met the night earlier.

"Sure, she looks all confident and queenly, but she's not. I mean she's queenly, and she's confident about queenly things and all, Mama and Papa saw to that, but she doesn't understand people like she understands laws and rules and how to get dressed and stuff. She never got to be around people, just books. I mean I was stuck, in here too, but I could go out if I wanted and you know, talk to people and see stuff outside … and break things." Anna gestured dramatically. "She was just stuck. I don't think she got much beyond the library. I wouldn't see her for days, except maybe at dinner … waaaaay over on the other side of the table. She was like this ghost I would hear about, but hardly see. We never talked. It was always, 'Elsa's too busy to play. Elsa's tired. Elsa has lessons. You know your sister is going to be Queen, and if you want to help her you need to … blah, blah, blah.' They meant well, but they couldn't have gotten it wronger if they tried."

Fitzwilliam tried to piece together the last coherent thing she understood. "The King and Queen?"

"Yeah, our parents. They kept us apart."

Against her better judgment she asked,"But why?"

"They were afraid that Elsa might kill me." Anna rolled her eyes.

"Oh." Fitzwilliam frowned, puzzled. "But you're younger. Her succession was assured, wasn't it?"

Now it was Anna's turn to be surprised. "Oh, no, no, no, no, not that kind of killed." She waved her hands and sputtered as if she had never thought of it that way. Then she laughed, and Fitzwilliam decided against asserting that there was really only one kind of dead. "By accident. With her magic." Anna waved her hands in the air in imitation of her sister's ice magic. "Something happened when I was little, and our parents thought the only safe solution was to keep us separated until she could control her powers, which unfortunately turned out to be something she had to be around people to figure out. And since they made her keep it a secret, I didn't know until she like froze the whole city, and I had to find her, and we both almost died … and well it took us a bit to forgive them for that. Still working on it, if you know what I mean. But I think she could use a friend." Anna took a breath and stepped closer to the captain, as if her next words were the crux of the whole issue. "I'm her friend, but I'm also her sister. Some one different, a different friend, would probably be …"

The princess was interrupted as an older woman stuck her head through the archway and said, "Ma'am, it's near time. You should probably go and change for lunch."

Anna nodded and waved her off, and then grabbed the captain's hand. "This is silly. You've been waiting long enough."

"Your Highness, I don't think ..."

But Anna was stronger than Fitzwilliam had anticipated, and she had the advantage of surprise, so the captain found herself pulled through the double doors into the meeting room.

"Hey Elsa, look who came to visit." Anna announced their arrival. The room was sizable and at one end Fitzwilliam imagined there was a throne, but right in front of her was a large oval conference table with a half dozen serious looking gentlemen around it and the queen at the head. The queen was dressed in something very different from what she had worn the evening before. She did not have anything on her head, her hair was down, which wasn't itself entirely odd, but her bare shoulders were … different. And the dress sparkled as if it were made of ice? All the men stood as the princess came in. They all stared as well, but Fitzwilliam could feel the eyes boring into her. She, meanwhile, was trying not to stare at the dress or what it covered or didn't.

This was not going as the captain had planned.

"Anna … I'm busy." The queen said with a touch of exasperation, before she realized who was being pulled in the princess' wake. "Oh, hello, Captain Fitzwilliam, it's a pleasure to see you again."

The captain took a moment to decide if she had been invited into the presence, decided that she was fine where she was, and then bowed formally. "Your Majesty." She started in a contrite a tone as she could manage under the circumstances. "I wanted to apologize for my inappropriate behavior last night. I hope that I might be forgiven."

Elsa shrugged, and beckoned her forward. "Of course. It wasn't really you who caused the problem." She gestured that the ministers might sit as Anna wondered over to her side. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

Fitzwilliam realized that Anna must have been right. It wasn't, what did she call it, 'a thing?' The queen didn't even consider it important enough to warrant a personal apology, which mean now the captain either confessed that she took up her time with something insignificant and self-absorbed, or she came up with …. thinking quickly on ones feet was the mark of a good captain.

"Well, Your Majesty, I was wondering if you – you and your sister – might grace us with your presence aboard the Vigilant. I was thinking a tour. Maybe a short sail? "

"Anna?" The queen looked to her sister. They hadn't ever discussed it, but she thought it likely her sister shared her uneasiness with ships and water. Still one tragedy, no matter how personal, could not mean that they would avoid boats all together.

Anna surprised her with a big grin. "Sure, that sounds fun. I mean you can save us with a giant ice bridge or something right, if suddenly the ship starts sinking."

"Yes, I think we're safe." Elsa returned the grin as she looked to the captain. "Then we are delighted to accept." Her secretary picked up on an unspoken cue immediately, and the man quickly thumbed through a her calendar and indicated a date.

"No, we don't even know if the Vigilant will be here then." In fact she hoped all the visitors would be long gone by that distant date. "How about the day after tomorrow?"

"But, Your Majesty, you have a luncheon with ..."

"Cancel it." Elsa said firmly. "I think this sounds more … fruitful. It's a military research outing."

"As your Majesty wishes."

"Day after tomorrow, good for you Captain?"

"Yes, that's perfect. The time? Is 10:00 a.m. good, Your Majesty?"

Elsa glanced at Anna, "I think we will say between 10 and 11, just in case Princess Sleepyhead takes a little while getting up." She laughed a little as Anna tried to think of a retort but only managed to turn slightly pink. "And Captain," she said as the woman bowed again and prepared to take her leave, "Thank you. This is a delightful offer."

When the captain was out of the room and breathing again, and trying very hard not to recollect that dress, oh my god, that dress, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. It was the princess again, and she started in right away after clearing her throat.

"Listen, I just want you to know that in this family we have a couple of rules."

Again Fitzwilliam felt like she had walked the contextual plank into the sea of non-sequitur. "Rules, Your Highness?"

"Rule number 1: You can't marry someone you just met." Then she burst out laughing obviously amused by her own joke. Her laughter continued as she wandered away leaving the Captain wondering what rule number two could possibly be.