Elsa's fingers drew a lazy pattern on Carolina's shoulder that circled the round scar puckered like a sunburst.

"Musket ball." Carolina muttered, "Lucky for me it went straight through."

Elsa shimmied further over her body to peer at her back.

Carolina rolled forward to give her better access, "You don't believe me?"

"I just ..." whatever it was Elsa meant to say was interrupted by an embarrassed giggle.

"What?"

"Your back."

"Ah," Carolina chuckled knowingly. "Well you see, those are more recent injuries." She pulled Elsa back down and then rolled them both over so she was on top. "I was in bed with this ferocious little minx."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize …."

"If you had realized, I wouldn't have been doing it right."

Elsa wiggled out from under her and then curled up in her arms, her nose pressed against Carolina's neck breathing in the scent of sex ... of her … of them both. She felt safe and warm; warm was an odd feeling, but there it was. She could stay like this forever, or at least the immediate future.

Arching her back with a stretch, smiling as Carolina watched with unabashed interest, Elsa mused, "I guess the negotiations with Avalon will have to continue for a while now that I've discovered their most interesting export." She continued doodling loops and circles with her fingers on Carolina's chest. "This could take years and years to get right. Maybe I can ask them to station a boat here for my protection while we negotiate?" She looked up to see if she could get a rise out of the captain. "A big boat."

For Carolina that was when time stopped; she froze; a cold wave passed over her; the bile rose in her throat, and she felt as if she would empty her stomach on the bed in front of her. A terrible clarity came crashing through the haze of sleepy pleasure. She could see what was at stake, and her own awful role in it. It was if a painting done on glass had come into clear focus just the moment before it was shattered. Her thoughts rolled out one after another. That bastard, had he planned this? Ledsham was too stupid, but William … he knew her … and he was uncannily strategic in his plots; he always took the long view. He was a master at chess, and he would have no compunction about using her as a pawn. She closed her eyes, wishing this knowledge to go away. How could she have been this stupid, this reckless?

Of course she knew why, she was reckless, always had been reckless, and now she added fool to that list. She had presumed any relationship with Elsa would be brief or just nonexistent; it would be impossible for it to be otherwise. She of all people knew that she was not fit company for a third rate baroness let along a queen. So while she hadn't looked forward to the day Vigilant was sent back to Avalon, she had been certain it would come, and soon. She presumed even minutes ago that Elsa might see her once, maybe twice, and then she would come to her senses, resume her responsibilities and would want to see her no longer. So what harm did it do to engage in the fantasy of this evening? Why not, just for a little while, be like this … feel like this … pretend that she could have someone like this. This night had been a gift to her, an unimaginably precious gift that she would hold forever … but, she felt sick as she thought of it … at what price? Her stomach lurched again. She was a damned fool.

"No!" The word came out harsher than she intended. Elsa broke out of their embrace and sat up, facing her.

"What?" She thought perhaps she had misheard, although the exclamation was pretty clear. She certainly didn't understand it though.

"No, you can't do that." Carolina sprang up and began to look for her clothing, rambling quickly. "You have to send us away, me, Ledsham, the Vigilant … all of us. And you have to do it soon."

"But why? Wait … wait, I don't understand." Elsa's brow furrowed, as she tried to take in the shifting tone in the room. She felt off balance as if the bed had suddenly turned on its side, and a cold dread was starting to pool in her belly. She was far too familiar with things suddenly going all wrong. "I know you have other obligations. But, are you in such a hurry to leave?"

Carolina pulled on her undershirt, acting as if she hadn't even heard the question."You just have to send the Vigilant away. Have no further contact with Avalon if you can help it."

"Why?" the queen demanded, dread mixing with anger. She did not like this feeling of not knowing, of being out of control.

Carolina looked for her trousers and her shirt, the rest was in the chair near the door. She pulled her boots out from under the bed.

"Why?"Elsa asked again in the tone that said she would not be denied.

Finally Carolina looked back and answered, "Because it's dangerous for you." She said it as if this statement should be enough. She knew what was at stake here, and Elsa would just have to listen to her, just believe her.

"Dangerous? How? I don't understand."

Carolina turned on her heel and stormed back at Elsa, all vehemence and pointing fingers. "It's just dangerous. Avalon is dangerous. William is dangerous. He gets what he wants and damn the consequences. If we stay here we are a danger to you. I am a danger to you. I cannot make that any clearer. You will send us away now!"

Elsa's back stiffened at the command, and she drew herself up to her full height. Authority now rang in her voice as well. "You will not speak to me that way, I'm the Queen of Arendelle."

"Then act like a queen and not some little girl throwing a temper tantrum because she doesn't like what she's hearing." Carolina was trying hard to keep her voice level, but she could feel the hard edges of the corner she was being backed into at her back.

"What's she's hearing is not making sense," Elsa said carefully, her eyes cold and narrow. "There is something you're not telling me."

There it was. She wanted to know everything, then fine, she would know everything. Maybe then she would listen to her, believe her. Carolina spat back, "How about that William the Vth of Avalon is my god damned father! I know him. He is ..." her posture collapsed, "Oh god, I'm sorry."

"Your father?" Elsa took a step back her face shrouded in disbelief as the meaning of this revelation swirled through her mind.

"Yes." Carolina's voice turned bitter. "My patron, my supporter, my father, the man who gave me his name so that everyone would know how dear I am to him, how I am his. So everyone would know in what regard he holds his queen and her … their legitimate children. And he is a cunning, ruthless, murderous bastard," Carolina twisted her lips in a mockery of a smile. "Well, I'm the bastard; he's just everything else."

Elsa felt a chill run up her spine. "And you were going to tell me this when?"

"I don't know." Carolina truly didn't have an answer. If it were possible she wouldn't have mentioned it now.

"Were you ever going to tell me this?" Elsa demanded.

"I don't know!"

"You thought this was information I didn't deserve, or did you just not trust me with it." Elsa leaned on the word trust in the most hurtful way possible.

"No ... that wasn't ... I can't … this is … this is treason." And you would think less of me was the unstated reason, but Carolina was certainly not going to add that now.

"So why tell me … why tell me now?" Elsa was angry, very angry. The temperature had fallen, but there was no ice, no snow … it was her expression that was frozen. "Was I that good? Stupid but a good enough fuck to let in on your big secret?"

"That's not it!" Carolina yelled back, "I just realized … I had to."

Elsa's voice was all ice, smooth and hard. "That's not an answer and you know it."

Carolina tried again. This was her fault, and she needed to try to make it right. "All he wants from this … this negotiation is you. I am sure of it, now. He intends to get you to Avalon, and I know he doesn't care how. He will use me, or take your sister to force you to come or … he's capable of anything. And he would have no qualms about killing you if he couldn't have you. The man killed his own brothers and their children to take the throne. He is vicious, and selfish, and if he has set his eye on you, he will stop at nothing to get you." She closed her eyes, head down, jaw working in a grinding clench. "The only thing I can think of is for you to send us away. Have no further contact with Avalon. Make him think you're not worth it … stop using your magic, spread rumors that you've lost it …I don't know ... make him lose interest. I am not sure of the rest, and I am sure you have advisers that can help you. But I know what the first thing needs to be," she looked up her eyes pleading, "you have to make us go."

Elsa decided she couldn't concur more. "Fine," she spat. "Then get out. Get the hell out!"

Fitzwilliam started to pull on her shirt.

"Now!"

Snatching up her the rest of her clothing from the chair, Fitzwilliam left the room. Elsa could hear her dressing in the foyer. She waited. She waited until she heard the door to the hall close. She waited for the footsteps to fade out, and she knew she was alone. Then the storm came.

Fitzwilliam knew how to get out of the castle and back to the harbor without being seen. But this time she stopped once. When she was over the bridge but not yet to where the docks began she sat down on a stair in an alleyway, a dark spot in a dark place. There she held her head in her hands, wiping the stray tear that ran down her cheek. She didn't know why she was crying … she wasn't a crying person, she could count on one hand the times she had felt this way … guilt surely; it must be guilt, guilt and shame. And she deserved this; she deserved the blame for this. After giving herself a few minutes she pulled herself upright and exhaled sharply. She needed to think, possibly to plan, but at least she felt in control of her emotions again.

She pondered her next move. She would have to tell Ledsham to cut his losses when the order came to leave. She hoped it was a forceful message from the queen. She could even just grab him and take the Vigilant back. Leave his soldiers, the Queen's Guard could deal with them easily enough. She was the master of her ship, and her crew would listen to her; they were loyal to her … perhaps an accident would befall the Duke on their way back. That was risky, but it would allow her to control what was revealed about their stay here, about Elsa. Ledsham was not loved at court, and she was still rather in favor, but interfering with the King's desires was at its heart a very unsafe plan.

These plans and variations on the plots involved filled her head for the rest of her walk back to the Vigilant. She walked on to the ship from the gangplank, hoping that the Officer of the Deck was someone who did not feel the need to stand on ceremony. Her head ached with a dull pounding. Her soul felt a much sharper pain. When she got into her quarters she would find a bottle in there somewhere. This would be a good night to forget.

The deck was ill lit, she thought for a moment about rousting someone to take care of the lanterns, when she heard, "Captain Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes," she answered turning.

Immediately her arms were pinned to her sides by a pair of the infantry soldiers.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded as they frog marched her down the ladder to the wardroom. "What the hell is going on. Let go of me," she tried twisting and fighting, but they were stronger. They stripped off her coat and sword, then her hands were forced to her back and she felt the bite of cold iron on her wrists. A strong hand pulled up on her shirt, and she was jerked backwards and into a chair. She looked around and realized there were four of the infantrymen here, four large soldiers glaring down at her. Her hands were immobilized by the manacles behind her.

"Let me go," she demanded again. "You have no right to hold me; I am the captain of this ship."

"Oh Captain," Duke Ledsham wandered out from the short hallway that led to her cabin, a triumphant smirk on his face. He was followed by Lieutenant Hanson looking pale and drawn and a furious red faced Midshipman Wainwright. In his hand he carried a parcel of letters, as if that had some significance, "I have every right to deal with traitors as I see fit."

At those words Wainwright launched herself at him. Hanson grabbed her tightly by the collar and yanked her back before she could strike the Duke. She struggled against the First Lieutenant's hold.

"Get her out of here," Fitzwilliam yelled. "Before she does something stupid."

"Certainly we have enough rope to hang you both," Ledsham said with a grin as Hanson dragged the Midshipman up the ladder. Then he sat in the chair facing the captain. They stared at each other. Fitzwilliam's mouth a grim line of disgust.

Ledsham leaned forward and waved the packet of letters in her face. "Not your most ingenious move, Captain. Providing the queen with Avalon's private conversations about our plans for her."

Fitzwilliam blinked, confused. This was not what she had expected. "I am unsure what you are talking about. I was not even privy to your plans."

"Hmmm. Interesting then. Why were these in your cabin?" He indicated the letters. "A sudden fascination with diplomacy?"

Fitzwilliam could see that they were indeed some sort of correspondence, but she had no idea about what. As she stared at the Duke with his victorious smirk on his face, it came to her that it didn't matter. She hadn't put those letters in her cabin, which meant someone had …which meant Ledsham had already set in motion what ever he had planned, and it was now too late to do anything.

"So, no questions? No protestations of innocence?" The Duke asked. "Or are you just going to confess to collaborating with Arendelle … with your whore?"

Fitzwilliam reared back in the chair and kicked out with both feet catching the Duke in his gut sending him flying backwards. The Duke writhed on the deck, doubled over in pain, groaning as pulled himself up with the chair.

"I will not permit you to speak that way of the queen, your Grace," Fitzwilliam spat.

"It's not ..." the Duke raised himself to a standing position slowly straightening out "… for you ..." he reached over and grabbed his walking stick "... to permit anything." He brought the stick down with a crack on her shoulder.

Fitzwilliam collapsed forward, the force of the blow sending her sprawling out of the chair. She felt a kick in her ribs, and then the walking stick slamming into her back. She roared in pain and frustration, trying to get to her feet, scrambling to reach Ledsham. The Duke continued to rain down blows until finally someone pulled her up to her knees. She saw the last blow coming, but she was pinned in place. She couldn't move, couldn't block, couldn't duck … all she could do was fall back to the ground as blackness claimed her.

"Ma'am, ma'am." The voice rang out down the hall, a little breathless. "Anna!"

Anna stopped her headlong rush and skidded to a stop. Looking back she saw Gerda puffing along after her.

"Ma'am," she panted. "If I may?"

"I know, I know. I was going to get up earlier." Anna explained. "Actually I was up, I really was. Well, not really up up, which turned out to be the problem, if I had been sitting or standing I wouldn't have fallen back asleep, well not without really falling anyway. But I was awake …."

"Ma'am," Gerda said more forcefully.

"Yes?"

"I wonder if I might ask you to … to look in on the queen."

"Is she mad?" Anna asked hesitantly. "You know, we had a deal. I wasn't going to bother her about not eating dinner when she was busy, and she was going to stop bothering me about breakfast."

"It's not that, ma'am."

"It's just not my best time of the day. Some people are morning doves and some … wait … what?"

"If … if you would just look in on your sister. Please."

Anna studied the housekeeper's face. Gerda had been one of the few staff members that had remained in the castle her entire life. She had been like a mother to her, and for three horrible years the only one she had been able to really talk to. Usually the housekeeper was a bedrock of calm, her face kind and open no matter if she was scolding a princess for running in the house or comforting her after she fell. Now that face was lined in worry, and it brought an odd pang to Anna's stomach.

"Yeah, sure. I'll do that," she cocked her head. "What's wrong, Gerda?"

"Perhaps it's nothing ..." she said in a voice that told Anna it was definitely not nothing.

"OK. Yeah … going now," and she hurried off down the hall to the stairs.

Anna turned the handle and pushed open the door to her sister's bedroom. A gasp escaped her lips as she looked at the frozen tableau in front of her. It was unusual for Elsa to do this anymore. Maybe a nightmare ... or a spider, she thought trying to lift her own spirits with humor, but even when it happened she never left a room like this, not now that she could disperse her ice as easily as she made it.

"Elsa?"

There was no answer. She went into the room, sliding a little as she made her way over to the far side near the large windows. Elsa wasn't in here. Then she checked the bath and the small office in the suite. Still no Elsa. She normally wouldn't worry. Elsa made it her habit to be up well before this and starting her day … but the ice, and Gerda. Anna would find her then. She would find her, and she would see everything was fine. It would turn out to be some bug incident that Elsa had been too rushed this morning to fix. But Anna couldn't even convince herself of that, so she dashed out into the hall.

She made a mental list of where she should check. First the study, then the library, it was upstairs so she would go there next, then …

Anna stopped in her tracks. The temperature had dropped noticeably as she walked down the hall. She looked over to her right.

The door to Elsa's childhood room stared back at her like an old enemy.

About two months after her coronation, otherwise known as the Great Freeze and Thaw of Arendelle, Elsa had asked Anna if she minded her moving into their parent's suite. Anna had had a small pang of sadness at that, but she could also hear the understated plea in her sister's voice. So together they packed up all of the their parent's personal things in the room, tearfully putting the clothing and nick-nacs into crates to be stored away, laughing as they each told the half of the story of their parent's lives that they remembered. Anna's was the half that took place in the great halls, with visitors, even outside in the grounds or gardens. Elsa's was the half that happened in her room, the library or the study where she sometimes took her lessons.

Then Elsa had moved in to the suite, except that moving in had meant a maid shifted her clothing, shoes and a few personal items from one room to the other. Nothing else changed, not the paintings, not the tapestries, not the bed or furniture, and she brought nothing else with her except for the set of dolls that looked like them, nothing else from her old room. Since that time no one, not even Elsa, had been back to that room. Anna had the sense that Elsa would have had the door walled over making the room disappear forever if she could. And who would blame her? That room had been more of a prison to her sister than a bedroom, which also meant it was the last place Anna expected to find her this morning.

She slowly walked to the door and raised her hand to knock. She was hesitant until she decided that no piece of wood should have that much power over a person. Still it was a feeble knock. There was no answer.

She tried the door handle, it turned. The door was not locked, but she couldn't push it open. She tried another knock, louder this time.

Anna heard a small voice answer, "Go away."

That set her off, and she threw her body against the door, the sound of breaking ice echoing with a crash as it slammed open. Her eyes widened. The floor of the room was covered in ice. A harsh wind blew a haze of snowflakes and hail around, hard enough that she winced as they hit her face. The table was ice. The bed was ice. The walls were ice. Icicles hung like swords from the ceiling; they jutted out like spikes from the walls. She had never seen anything like this … well, since her sister froze Arendelle.

"Elsa ... Elsa?" she said pushing her way into the room despite the wind.

She heard her sister's voice distant and irritated, "Anna … what?" Anna walked toward it, slipping on the ice and landing on her back. She got up to her hands and knees and crawled in further. Elsa was sitting on the bed facing out the window. She was only in her night dress, and she hugged her knees up to her body.

"What's the matter?"

Elsa hugged herself more closely, but finally looked back at her sister. Her mouth was set into a hard line. She fumbled for a moment, and then pulled the wind and hail back into herself, and all that was in its place was an eerie silence. "Nothing's the matter." The storm was gone, leaving only the ice glittering dangerously in the room.

"Whoa, whoa. That's a clear violation of the 'I will not shut Anna out' rule." She tried a light tone. "There will be a penalty."

Elsa's head dropped back to her knees, and she mumbled through them. "Anna, stop it. Not everything's a game. Just leave me, and I'll be ... I'll be fine."

"No." Anna reached out and put her hand on Elsa's shoulder. After a moment she began stroking her back. It hurt her to see her sister like this. It hurt even more that she had no idea why.

"No, what?" came the muffled replied, annoyance bubbling up again in the tone. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. No, you probably won't come out anytime soon if I leave you in here, and so no, I'm not going anywhere until we talk." Anna continued touching her sister, running her fingers through her hair, and waiting.

Finally Elsa lifted her head, looking at her sister, "Why is it that you can be this patient right now?" she asked, her voice coated in a sad sarcasm.

Anna leaned in, wrapping her arms around her, "I've been learning from an expert." She studied Elsa's face, looking for clues about what could be so upsetting. "So, seriously, what's the matter?"

Elsa went round and round in her head. She really hadn't wanted to talk to anyone about this, her plan had been to sit in here until … well, until the storm was over she thought with an internal exclamation of irony. It just hadn't been going as well … or as quickly ... as she had hoped. But if there was anyone she could talk about this to, it was Anna. If anyone could help her see anything less than total embarrassment and rage in this, Anna could. "Captain Fitzwilliam and I were …" she took another deep breath, "... we were intimate last night."

"Oh? … oh." Anna blinked and frowned. This was not what she expected. It also didn't make any sense to her, but the change in way her sister addressed Fitzwilliam was a clue. Had she rejected Elsa? That seemed very unlikely, and this looked like much more than hurt feelings. "And this is what is upsetting you? Did … did she do something you didn't want?" Anna felt a surge of rage at that thought.

"No. No … that … that part was fine. Well, much more than fine …." Elsa stuttered her way through the statement and then threw her forehead into her hands."Why am I telling you this?"

"Because I'm your sister, and I love you." Anna tilted her head so it rested on Elsa's. The two of them there, just sitting … talking as if it could be a completely normal thing sisters did. It was a completely normal things that sisters did, and Anna hoped that Elsa felt the same way. That this time she would let her be there for her.

"Younger sister."

"Really, I think about this thing, you know, I'm leagues ahead of you."

Elsa looked sharply at her and glared, but the angry edge was gone from her eyes.

Anna shrugged apologetically, "Sorry, so what was the problem?"

Elsa paused and collected her thoughts. She tried to keep her voice level..."We were talking … afterward."

"Captain's not great at pillow talk?"

"Anna, are you going to listen or just interrupt me. Because I really hadn't planned on having this conversation at all."

"OK, OK, no more interruptions. You were talking?"

"Yes, and she told me … she told me." The anger began swirling around again, she felt it in her chest, in her heart. There was a crack as the ice behind Elsa darkened and pushed out sharp spikes. "She's the illegitimate daughter of William V the King of Avalon."

"And?" Anna prompted her for more, as if that wasn't enough.

"There is no 'and.'" Elsa said her voice getting louder with each word. "She told me that. I got angry. I told her to leave. She left. My room is an icy mess, so I thought I'd come in here. This room is used to being an icy mess."

"So you're angry with her because of who her father is?" Anna still didn't seem to understand, and it made Elsa even more frustrated.

"Yes! No. Not just that."

Anna tried to make sense of this as best she could. There had to be something she was missing. "OK. So, is she connected to the problem we're having with Avalon? Could she have prevented the whole alliance proposal/marriage proposal thing? That stupid snarky Duke?"

Elsa looked away and sighed, "No, I don't think so. It didn't sound like that."

"Did she try to pull something over on you? Take advantage of you? Get you to agree with a plan? Kidnap you?"

"No, pretty much the reverse." Elsa answered her voice tensing. She had wanted to be comforted, not interrogated. "She was warning me that they would do anything to bring me back with them. That I needed to be careful. That the Duke was capable of doing more than just annoying me. She wanted me to send them away and refuse any other advances from Avalon."

Anna looked over and her voice went quiet. "That sounds like treason, Elsa …"

"It probably is."

"OK, so you got to help me here," Anna said tentatively. "I have no idea why a woman risking her life for you made you so angry."

Elsa's head snapped back up and rage filled her face again."She lied to me!"

Oh, Anna thought, that made a lot more sense. "She lied? You mean she told you that she wasn't related to the King of Avalon?"

"It was more a lie of omission."

"And you would be an expert on those."

Anna couldn't help it, the statement was out before she even thought. And she regretted it as soon as she said it. Elsa jerked as if she had been slapped, and then went absolutely still. Her hands slowly came up to her face and she held her head, a coating of frost formed on them and the cracked off. Anna waited, expecting more ice or another violent snow storm. But then Elsa's face dissolved into sobs, her shoulders shaking.

"Elsa …" She pulled her sister into her embrace. "I've got you. I've got you, Elsa."

Fitzwilliam stirred and groaned in the darkness. Her head pounded, her whole body was in pain and stiff. It hurt to move, but then she couldn't move much anyway. She looked around. She tried to remember where she was … bloody hell.

She heard and felt a bucket being pushed toward her, and she managed to find it, placing her head on it's edge, as she threw up the contents of her stomach. It was mostly bile. Then she realized that was because this wasn't the first time she had thrown up recently, it was just the first time she had been conscious to do it.

"Captain?"

Once she was sure the vomiting had stopped, she looked up from her place on the floor. She was in the hold, and some feet from her she could just make out another shape, clearer now that her eyes were adjusting to the darkness.

"Captain?"

"What?," she said, it took several times for her voice to respond to her desire to speak. "What now?" she choked out. What was left for them to do but hang her?

"It's Wainwright, ma'am. I've been waiting for you to come to."

"Bloody hell, Wainwright go back to your station," she croaked, hoping most of the words made sense. "You don't need to be down here."

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but you can't give me orders. Lieutenant Hanson's acting Captain, and he knows where I am."

"If Hanson's mollycoddling my Midshipmen, I'll not be pleased," she said thickly. It was getting easier to speak. Her head still pounded and her body still ached, but her mind was clearing.

"Aye, aye, ma'am," came the retort from Wainwright. Fitzwilliam could imagine the eye roll that went with it. "Here, I've got some water here. You need to drink something."

Wainwright put a cup to her lips and held it as she tipped her head back. Fitzwilliam was tempted to spill it in an attempt to try to clean off her shirt in front. She could smell herself, and it wasn't pleasant. But the water was a good idea, and after she drank she felt better. Wainwright also helped her get into a sitting position up against a barrel of what was probably rum. So near and yet so far, she thought, and she almost laughed.

They sat in silence until Fitzwilliam finally said, "Aren't you going to ask?"

"Ask what, Captain?"

"I think you can call me Fitz now, Alice … or Millicent if you want."

Wainwright choked and sputtered. Fitzwilliam wasn't sure if it was from hearing her own first name from the captain or the "Millicent" that threw her.

Fitzwilliam continued, "And ask me if I did it?"

"Don't need to know … Fitz," the young girl seemed to be trying out that name on her tongue. "If you did, you had a reason, a good one."

"There's never a good reason to disobey an order," Fitzwilliam said in a tired voice. "My duty is to Avalon, and if I violated that oath it's treason. You don't get to second guess the Captain, and I don't get to second guess the King."

"Mr. Hanson thinks you were set up."

"Mr. Hanson needs to mind his own neck right now."

"I don't think I'll be telling him that, ma ...Fitz."

They sat quietly until Wainwright spoke up, "You'd do it again, wouldn't you?"

Fitzwilliam almost said, What part? But she knew what Wainwright meant and the young lady didn't need to be exposed to the entirety of what had transacted. "I would."

"My father says that's the mark of something right, when after you've done it … and your suffering for it … that you'd do it again."

"Funnily enough, my father thinks that the mark of something right is that when you've done it, and you've got what you wanted, that other people are suffering mightily," Fitzwilliam said it without any bitterness. It wasn't like she hadn't known that. "But then I think your father's the better man."

"You shouldn't say ..."

"What are they going to do, Alice? Hang me twice?"

"They're taking you back to Avalon, you know." Wainwright said it as if that could possibly make things worse. But really, that didn't seem likely from Fitzwilliam's view.

"Ah, then I'm Ledsham's prize. Well better me ..." her voice drifted off in thought. "You going to stay here in the hold with me the whole way back?" She meant it as a joke, but then she remembered how literal the young Midshipman was.

"No … but I'll be down regularly. Mr. Hanson wants me to bring you food and water, and he wants me to stay out of the Duke's way. I think he's afraid of what I'll do."

"You have a career ahead of you, Alice. No sense ending that on account of me."

"Understood … Fitz."

They both heard the bells chime, albeit muffled so far below deck. Wainwright got to her feet. "Well, I've got first supper and second dog. I'll bring you something down after that. I'm not sure what I can get, but I'll do my best. You need to eat. And I'll bring enough water so you can have some here. And a clean shirt if I can find it."

"Thank you, Alice, but I couldn't put it on. Not chained up like this."

"I'll still bring it." Wainwright stated as she started slowly back to where the ladder to the orlap deck was. She had only taken three steps when she turned. "Was it stupid of me to believe that we'd always be doing the right thing, Captain?"

Fitzwilliam was surprised by the question, so it took her a moment to answer. "No, Midshipman Wainwright," she said with all the confidence she could muster, "If you didn't think that way, I wouldn't have wanted you on my ship."

"Good to know that, ma'am," Wainwright answered. Then her footsteps faded away.

A/N: I had a hell of a time uploading this, so I ended up jury rigging it by re-purposing Chapter 7 ... I hope that it doesn't actually screw up chapter 7. If anyone knows why I would be getting an error message when I try to upload a story to the doc manager, I would appreciate the information. Or if there is a technical forum or something like that.