When Garth woke, the ship was rocking. He groaned and sat up, gasping when he was suddenly lurched to the side. He braced himself against the wall and looked around when he heard chuckling. One of Reaver's crewmen was standing in front of one of the cabinets, unlocking it.

"Kevin?" Garth tried groggily, recalling the man's name. Kevin was from Albion, with sun-bleached, cropped hair, deeply tanned skin, thin lips and green eyes. His mischievous grin reminded Garth of Reaver as he pulled something from the cabinet.

"Aye, mate," he answered, locking the door again. He headed over to the bunk. "Leon said you'd took that seasickness stuff. None of the lads were envious." He held out his hand, Garth's monocle clutched within his fist. Garth took it with thanks and began to fasten it back over his eye.

"We've all had it at least once," Kevin continued lightly, his eyes trained on the wall opposite instead of on Garth as he fixed his eyeglass. Reaver must have warned him, the Mage realised dimly. "Leon reckons it tastes like Alban grog, but that's only because the piss he's used to is as fruity as fuck."

"Why are you down here?" Garth asked curiously. As he began to climb out of the bunk, the ship rocked again and threw him sideways. Kevin grasped his forearm firmly, steadying him.

"Woah there, mate. You won't be able to last on deck if you can't keep yourself steady." the pirate warned. He ran his hand through his hair. "Captain's orders, yeah? Reaver said not to let you come running out onto deck. It'd be a pain in the arse if you fell overboard while a Kraken is attackin'. Oi, hear that? I rhymed!" he laughed in amusement.

Garth only frowned at him. "A Kraken?" He knew the beast, having read about it long ago. A squid of gargantuan size, said to have a taste for ships. He had no idea if this was true, having never actually encountered the creature, so he kept quiet. Kevin caught the discomfort on his face though.

"Eh, don't worry, it's probably just hungry, or maybe threatened." he said simply. Garth cocked an eyebrow at him and he blinked. "Er, that sounded more reassuring in my head. Anyway, Reaver's scaring it off."

"Scaring it off?"

"You know, shootin' its arm-things until it runs away with its arm-things between its… arm-things."

"Tentacles?"

"Yeah, them. Oi, where are you going?" Kevin grabbed for Garth as he began to totter his way towards the door. He caught Garth's wrist. "Reaver says you ain't to go out there!"

Garth raised an eyebrow. Was Reaver his babysitter now? He certainly didn't appreciate this metaphorical chain Reaver was trying to keep him on, even if the Thief believed it was for Garth's own good. It didn't sit well with Garth; it reminded him too much of the leash Sparrow had Reaver on. He wondered how Reaver would react if Garth were to point out his hypocrisy.

Besides, he was curious to see this creature. And he didn't particularly like the idea of Reaver having to face it alone. His magic could help, and he could prove to these men that he wasn't just some inconvenient guest, reliant on Reaver. Because, judging from the way Kevin was staring at him now, that was how they saw him. It irritated him.

He wrenched his wrist from Kevin's grasp and continued his way to the door. Kevin grabbed him again, this time by the shoulders.

"Reaver says you ain't to go! He doesn't want you falling overboard!" he snapped in frustration. Garth sighed and began to charge a Shock spell. Kevin's eyes widened. "Or maybe I'm wrong, I dunno. He wasn't too clear about it…"

"Good man," Garth growled, freeing himself from the pirate's grasp again. Kevin scoffed as he followed Garth to the deck.

"Spoken by a bloke who doesn't know me."

Garth flung open the cabin door as the ship lurched so violently that even a few of the crew staggered. Kevin caught Garth by the waist to steady him, cursing under his breath. The men were stabbing and shooting at the arms as they coiled up the ship's side, none daring to lean too far over the side in case they fell. Garth could hear Reaver shouting from somewhere above him.

"You back for more, are you? You overgrown octopus!" He actually sounded like he was enjoying himself. Garth shook his head, wondering why he had ever expected otherwise.

Well, Reaver wasn't worried, and the crew didn't seem too bothered, so it probably wasn't all that great an emergency. Garth braced himself against the wall and moved to the stairs leading to the quarter deck. Reaver blinked in surprise and cocked an eyebrow when he saw Garth hurry over to him, but said nothing.

"I insisted on coming out," Garth muttered. Reaver shook his head, grinning reluctantly.

"Of course you did." The ship rocked again, and Reaver pulled Garth up against him with one arm. In his free hand he clutched his pistol, which he fired several times as a tentacle suddenly surged up the side of the ship nearby. It retreated quickly, and a water-muffled roar of pain was heard from somewhere in the water.

"Blasted thing, I've had quite enough of it." Reaver muttered. He reloaded his weapon, Garth still in his arms. "It's too big for a few gunshots. Can you kill it?" he asked flatly. Garth considered him thoughtfully.

"Where is it?" he asked. "The body, I mean," he added quickly, seeing Reaver's deadpan look. Reaver frowned.

"Directly underneath the ship, I believe." he replied. "It won't come out. When it retreats, it will just dive deeper."

Garth sighed. He didn't want to risk damaging the ship. He glanced up at the masts and noted that the sails weren't out. The wind was strong. It could work…

"Can you open those?" he asked, nodding towards them. "I think the sudden movement would take it by surprise. The ship would be pulled free of it."

Reaver frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose," he replied slowly. "But the wind would blow us back to Albion."

"And? I just need it to be free of the ship."

Reaver sighed. "Fine," he grumbled, and began shouting orders at his crew.

Another tentacle rose up, but this time it was Leon who attacked. Twin blades in his hands, he leapt up onto the ship's edge in front of the arm, balancing easily. He crossed the blades in front of him and slashed out, leaving a huge gash in the creature's arm. It retreated, and he back flipped off the edge, landing steadily. "You take that, you!" he shouted triumphantly, even as another crewmember yelled "Show-off!" Garth could only admire the man's graceful acrobatics.

The sudden backwards heave of the ship threw almost everyone off their feet. Garth and Reaver crashed into the railing, Reaver managing to steady them both before they toppled over it. Garth tore himself from Reaver's grasp, wasting no time in running across the main deck and up to the beakhead, the steady footsteps following him telling him that Reaver was close behind.

He could see the thing's outline in the water. It was about three-quarters the length of the Charon, not nearly as big as the monster he had imagined. He had to keep it from retreating back underneath the ship.

Vortex.

A whirlpool opened up, catching it in its midst. Garth concentrated, commanding the powerful spell to rise out of the water, bringing the creature with it. It thrashed and roared, trying to tear itself free of Garth's grasp, and Garth knew he had to distance it from the ship, quickly.

His Force Push spell had enough power behind it to rock the ship. Reaver cursed and clutched onto Garth, but Garth had no time to fall over. Electricity burst forth from his fingertips, covering the distance easily and hitting the slippery creature with a fizzing roar. He felt the hot surge of power through his body, seeming to come from deeper within him with every moment that passed. Finally he broke it off, panting, as the creature fell back into the water.

The silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the roaring of the sea monster moments before. The only sounds now were that of the men struggling to close the sails. Finally, Reaver chuckled, his arms still around Garth's waist.

"Why on earth I tried to deal with that squid without you is beyond me," he admitted into Garth's ear, so only the Mage could hear. Garth blushed at the enormous compliment.

"Is it dead?" one of the pirates asked tentatively.

"If it ain't, it's feelin' very sorry for itself." Kevin sounded amused. Garth glanced over his shoulder; the man had taken the wheel. He supposed then that without Reaver around, Kevin was Leon's first mate.

Leon roared with laughter, and soon enough the entire crew were laughing and cheering triumphantly. Over the shouts, Garth could hear Leon's voice, "You fish it out, yes? Seafood tonight and forever!"

Reaver chuckled lowly and pressed a kiss to the side of Garth's neck, sending shivers down his spine. He led Garth back onto the main deck, where he was greeted with rough, awe-filled compliments and light thumps on the back. Someone joked that Garth should be given an eye patch to wear instead of his monocle whilst he was on the ship, and just like that, he was something more than a minor inconvenience to the crew.

**

The further they sailed out to sea, the further away the Spire seemed to become. Reaver glared at the hateful thing, as though doing so would scare it into coming closer. No luck.

His crew respected Garth much more after the Kraken incident. In their eyes, he had proven his worth. Sailing had been smooth so far, and so many of the men were free. A handful of them challenged Garth to a game of cards, and then playfully banned him when he kept winning. Garth smiled faintly at them, sometimes engaging them in playful banter, sometimes just shrugging them off. They understood his withdrawn behaviour; Reaver had warned them that the Spire was something of a nightmare for him. And as the days passed, Garth grew more and more aloof.

He still spoke to Reaver when they were out of earshot, easily able to voice his concerns. He was still unsure about many of the crew, Leonardo in particular. Reaver chuckled softly. He knew that Garth was faintly jealous of the man.

"He is the last thing I expected to find in a pirate," Garth had murmured, as Reaver steered his beloved ship. He had forgotten the incredible feeling of freedom that came with captaining a ship. Here in the open sea, it was as though nothing could touch him. He could go wherever he wanted, and do whatever he wished. He felt much more content at sea than he did on land, where Sparrow and the Shadow Judges and now the Spire Guards were all waiting to get their hands on him.

He chuckled at Garth's concern. "He is rambunctiously childish sometimes," he agreed simply. "But he's shrewd. And you have yet to see him truly fight. He's as breathtaking as he is deadly with his blades."

Garth scowled slightly, and Reaver held back his sigh. Of course he had slept with Leonardo before, and he wouldn't be opposed to doing it again. But at the end of the day…

"You shouldn't worry so much, Mage," he said softly. He trailed his fingers down one of the larger Will scars on Garth's arm. "Eventually he will leave, and you will stay with me. At home."

Garth stared at him before looking away quickly, but not so quick that Reaver didn't catch his red cheeks.

Though Garth rarely socialised, it didn't stop Leonardo from seeking him out. Reaver truly had no idea what his former lover thought of Garth; the man was far too good at hiding his emotions. And Garth couldn't escape him; he had no sanctuary on this ship. Even as he stood by Reaver, leaning on the railings as Reaver steered the ship, Leonardo would talk to him.

"Your eye is blind, yes?" the man was saying. Reaver paused, having forgotten to warn him that this subject was off-limits. "What happened? An accident?"

Garth's shoulders tensed and he stared pointedly up at the main mast. "No," he replied thickly, and Reaver felt an overwhelming urge to pull the man close. "It was deliberate."

"An attack, then?" Leonardo pushed, seemingly oblivious to Garth's anxiety. Or, more likely, he had noticed and it piqued his curiosity. "Who did it? What happened?"

"Leonardo, leave him alone," Reaver warned in the man's native language. Leonardo glanced at him in surprise, but startlingly, Garth spoke.

"Someone that should have been the last person to harm me," he said shortly. He looked at Reaver, his expression sharp and meaningful. "It was burned."

Reaver could only stare at him. Was Garth finally ready to tell him what happened? He had to admit, his curiosity hadn't waned at all ever since he had first asked about it, when Garth arrived in Oakfield. But now, he wasn't sure he was ready to hear it. It sounded like it caused Garth a world of pain, and whenever Reaver thought of the Mage in pain, he would get an aching tightness in his chest that he simply refused to name. Swallowing, he nodded slowly to his lover.

Leonardo glanced between the two, their unspoken exchange leaving him looking uncomfortable. When Garth finally broke eye contact with Reaver, the pirate spoke again.

"The Captain, he likes pretty girls." he said, and both Heroes stared at him, taken by surprise at this sudden statement. Leonardo grinned at Garth. "Delicate wallflowers, intelligent, but so very weak. But his men, he likes interesting. Handsome too, yes, but mostly interesting." He looked at Garth pointedly. "He cannot resist them, he. Never does he try."

"Where are you going with this?" Reaver growled in Aragonian. Leonardo shot him a cheeky grin, but before he could continue, Garth spoke.

"And you, Leon?" he asked, with a quick glance at Reaver. Reaver relaxed slightly as Garth distracted his first mate.

"Me?" Leonardo blinked, sounding surprised that Garth had even asked. "Me, I like… men, yes. But I prefer women." He grinned. "Not Captain Reaver's women, no. Strong. Ample-bosomed." He held his arms out in front of him to demonstrate his point, and Reaver couldn't help but snort with laughter. Even Garth chuckled softly.

Leonardo glowed with pride at having extracted a laugh from the Mage. "These women, they like to be romanced, but never do they admit it, no. Watching them swoon in private is a triumph."

"Have you ever taken a woman aboard?" Garth asked. Leonardo gaped at him in horror and clapped his hands over his ears. Reaver sighed heavily.

"Oh, no, no! Do not speak like that, Wizard Garth! No, no…"

"Having a woman aboard is bad luck, or so the superstition goes," Reaver explained, as Garth stared at the pirate in confusion. "Nonsense, I know."

"You say that, you," Leonardo rounded on Reaver, shaking his fist at him. "But you think now; every time you have had a woman with you, bad things have happened. You know this, you do!"

"That sea monster attacked and there were no women on board," Garth pointed out bluntly. Leonardo glared at him.

"Oh, Wizard Garth, you are as cynical as he! You are welcome to each other! I wash my hands of you, I do!" And with that he hurried down onto the main deck, leaving Garth to stare at Reaver in bewilderment.

"I'm not sure what just happened," he admitted softly, and Reaver laughed.

Two days out from the Spire, Reaver eyed the horizon apprehensively. Storm clouds were building up, darkening with every moment. He knew that it could hit at any time; storms at sea were unpredictable like that.

Kevin was standing beside him. Though Reaver hadn't taken too much notice of the man before, he was beginning to see that Leonardo's faith in him wasn't entirely misplaced. He stared at the clouds too, clearly thinking the same thing as Reaver. "That looks like it might be trouble." he said lowly. Reaver nodded.

"I agree. Let the crew know." Reaver ordered, and Kevin took off. Reaver glanced over at Garth. The Mage was leaning on the side of the ship, watching the water pass silently. Though his sea legs had improved dramatically over the past few days, Reaver still did not want to risk having him on deck during a storm. "Mage."

Garth glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. He was distressed, Reaver knew, because they were nearing their destination.

"A storm could hit soon. You should go into the cabin."

Garth glanced up and frowned at the storm clouds. He shook his head. "Why? What of you?" he asked.

Reaver sighed in frustration. He had expected this, but that didn't make it any less annoying. "I'm staying up here, of course," he replied. "I don't know how long it will last. It could be five minutes, it could be five hours. Or it could bypass us completely, though I doubt it will." He beckoned Garth over and Garth complied, though he was scowling.

"So you'll have me cower in your cabin as the storm lashes you and your ship?" he snapped. "No, Reaver. I can help up here."

"Mage, please." Reaver all but begged, knowing that he would have to convince Garth another way. Garth stared at him as Reaver tilted his chin up to give himself access to the Mage's mouth.

"You've said so much yourself: you don't know all that much about ships. And I don't want to risk you falling overboard. Stay inside," Reaver whispered. "I'll join you there when it's safe."

After a moment, Garth sighed and nodded reluctantly. Reaver held back his triumphant smirk and kissed him instead.

"Go on," he said, and Garth wordlessly turned on his heel and made his way to their cabin. Reaver watched him go, only relaxing when he heard the cabin door click shut.

"Who is he to you, Captain?" a melodic voice asked him. Reaver glanced over his shoulder at Leonardo and cursed silently. He hadn't known his first mate was there, witnessing his exchange with Garth.

"What do you mean?" he replied in Aragonian. He was sure he sounded awkward and hesitant when he spoke this language, though not nearly as inelegant as Leonardo sounded when he spoke Alban. It still bothered him, and he wished he had more of a chance to practice the language. Reading it in books and conversing with others were entirely different, after all.

Leonardo joined him by the wheel, leaning against the nearby railing. "I've seen you with him." He refused to meet Reaver's eyes. "There was a time, not so long ago, when I would have killed to have you look at me the way you do him."

"What way?" Reaver growled. He was not going to have this conversation. Talking about this would force him to face several things about himself, things he hadn't had to face in… how many years? When was the last time he had actually cared about someone? A hundred and - he counted in his head - seventy three years ago, exactly. That hadn't ended well, either. Her throat had been slit before Reaver could turn around to shoot the enemy. "Like I want to tie him to this wheel and fuck him as I steer the ship?"

Leonardo gave an ill-bred snort, and examined Reaver for a long moment before he next spoke. "Not at all," he replied, and his voice was hesitant. He was holding back what he truly wanted to say, Reaver could tell. His voice was far more expressive in Aragonian than it was in Alban. "Like you never want anything bad to happen to him."

"If he were to fall overboard and drown, this voyage would be for nothing."

"He can't fall overboard on land, Captain."

Reaver snarled, anger flaring up in the pit of his stomach. "You are a foolish, idealistic romantic," he snapped. "Go below deck; you're not needed for this storm."

Leonardo scowled, his eyes darkening as he looked Reaver over. "I may be an idealistic romantic," he replied at length, turning away to retreat to his cabin. "But you are the fool, Captain."

"Fuck off." Reaver growled angrily in Alban, earning himself quite a few startled looks from his nearby crew. Leonardo maintained a dignified silence as he retreated gracefully to his cabin.

**

Lashes cutting into his back: twenty, thirty, too many. Screams as hot blades sliced into his skin. Struggling as his head was shoved into a trough of water, lungs screaming for air. Darkness as he was blindfolded, gagged, hands suspended above him. Grunts and groans of pain as he was bound to a table and raped. Months of solitary confinement.

And laughter. Always laughter.

Garth had thought he'd left the Tattered Spire behind for good. Why was he going back there? Surely they could fight the Spire Guards on their own. Sparrow had the Normanomicon, so surely there was no need for panic, no need for this voyage. They could wait for the Spire Guards to come to them, and then attack, couldn't they?

The ship rocked in the storm, and Garth hid his face in the pillows of the bunk. He was still fully clothed; he couldn't handle the thought of being naked, not with these memories plaguing his mind. Panic was building up inside him, causing his hands to shake and his Will to slip slowly away, and he desperately wished Reaver was here with him.

Reaver had kept him safe on this journey. He was always quick to take hold of Garth whenever the ship lurched, keeping him steady. Another of the new crewmen had died, Reaver shooting him when the man drunkenly grabbed Garth and asked him to 'play'. He had ordered Leon to control his curiosity and leave Garth alone. When Garth had caught sight of Reaver's panicked expression as Leon began to speak of his taste in men, Garth felt that changing the subject was the least he could do.

He had desperately wanted to stay by the Thief's side as the storm lashed the ship, foolish as it would have been. He was worried for Reaver, but he also had other, more selfish reasons for wanting to stay on deck. It would have forced him to keep his mind in the present, to stop his thoughts lingering darkly on the Spire and his memories.

He had almost won out, too. But when Reaver began to whisper gently to him, begging him to stay safe, he had felt his resolve melt away. He knew he was being manipulated, but when the Thief kissed him tenderly, he decided he didn't care.

He cared now, though. The storm lashed the ship, thunder rumbling above, and oh! Garth wished Reaver was with him, to chase away his horrific thoughts.

Struggling as his head was wrenched back, liquid poured down his throat…

Garth squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the pillow again. If he had felt helpless in the Temple of Shadows, it was nothing compared to the powerlessness he felt now.

He lost all track of time; the lurching, the thunder, it was all too repetitive, too predictable. He didn't sleep - at least, he didn't think he did - and it felt like an eternity passed before the cabin door opened and Reaver trudged in, weary and soaked to the bone. Garth propped himself up on his elbows, relief flooding through him at the sight of the bedraggled Thief.

"I hate storms," Reaver muttered, glancing at Garth. He began to peel his layers of wet clothing from his body. "The worst is over now. Three men fell overboard. One was fished out, but the other two are lost." He sighed wearily. "Oh well. Two less mouths to feed, I suppose." He dumped the top half of his clothing in a heap and began to work his soaked boots off.

"Are you all right?" Garth asked quietly, watching him. Reaver's mere presence soothed him, chasing his nightmarish memories to the back of his mind. Little by little, his hands stopped shaking, and his heart slowed.

Reaver scoffed. "Fine, Mage. Exhausted and freezing, but fine." He peeled his trousers off and went over to one of the cabinets, retrieving a light green towel. He began to dry himself off. "The men who weren't on deck during it are now. Leonardo is captaining. I suppose I should hang those out to dry," he added, eyeing the heap of wet clothing on the floor. Garth watched as he retrieved a coil of rope from one of the drawers, fastening one end of it to a hook high above the end of the bunk. He unravelled it across the length of the cabin and fastened the other end to another hook by the top of the last cabinet. Garth blinked; he hadn't even noticed the hooks before.

Carelessly, Reaver straightened his clothing out before tossing them over the makeshift clothesline. He finally stumbled over to the bunk and flopped down beside Garth gratefully, scoffing when he noticed Garth was still fully clothed. "Why are you wearing those?" he demanded.

Garth shook his head. He didn't feel like explaining himself. Reaver eyed him for a moment before pulling impatiently at his clothing, insisting silently that he take them off. Garth sighed and after a moment, stripped himself naked. Reaver rolled over and pressed a kiss to Garth's stomach - his lips were freezing. He dropped his head onto Garth's stomach in exhaustion and his hair was still wet. It chilled Garth's skin.

"I think I'm going to fall asleep," Reaver murmured. Garth smiled and pulled gently on Reaver's shoulders.

"Come here," he commanded soothingly.

Reaver crawled up beside him before flopping back down, his head resting on Garth's shoulder, one arm slung across Garth's chest. He was cold to the touch. Garth shifted to tug the sheet over them before wrapping his arms around the Thief, trying to warm him up. Reaver sighed in contentment.

"Do you want to tell me what happened to your eye?" he asked, and Garth paused, having forgotten that he had hinted that to Reaver. He swallowed thickly and nodded, but a sharp look from the Thief silenced him before he even began to speak.

"Why do you want to tell me?" he asked, and Garth stared at him, taken aback. "Is it because you think you know my darkest secret and you want to even the score?"

That gave Garth pause. "You mean I don't?" he asked, genuinely surprised. Reaver smiled at him wryly.

"Of course not," he replied softly. He examined Garth for a moment, his face unreadable. "Perhaps I will tell you one day, perhaps I won't. However, my original question still remains unanswered."

Garth sighed, realising that Reaver wasn't going to let this drop. "Yes, and no," he admitted softly, and Reaver rose an eyebrow at him. "Part of me thinks you should know, because I know about Oakvale."

Reaver's scoff interrupted him. "Leonardo knows about that, and he's certainly not clamouring to tell me his deepest, darkest secrets," he said shortly. Garth scowled.

"Another part of me wants to tell you," he snapped. "Though I certainly won't if you keep bringing him into this." The words were out of his mouth before his mind had a chance to process them. Reaver gave him a startled look, and Garth sighed heavily, embarrassed by his behaviour. "Apologies," he said, but Reaver shook his head.

"It's fine, Mage. It's rather flattering, actually." He grinned tiredly up at him. "You decide. Don't let me sway you, or Leonardo for that matter." He chuckled, and Garth grinned despite himself. He sighed and dropped his head back against the pillows, staring up at the roof sightlessly.

"My father burned it with a cigar." he admitted at length.

Reaver looked at him quickly, his expression unreadable. "He what?" he asked, as though he hadn't heard right. Garth smiled mirthlessly.

"I knocked over his bottle of spirits, and he was angry. I don't think he really knew what he was doing until my older brother pulled him off me." he said. He could remember the searing, white hot pain vividly as the smoke was pushed further into his eye, sticking there, his screams drowning out his father's furious, drunken roars-

"What happened to him?" Reaver asked at length.

"I killed him." Garth replied plainly. "Much later, with the most powerful Will spell I knew at the time."

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen. Nine when he attacked me."

Reaver dropped his head back onto Garth's shoulder, his eyes fluttering closed. "A child," he murmured. "How abhorrent." He nuzzled Garth's neck sleepily. "I bet he was surprised when you zapped him," he mumbled. Garth chuckled humourlessly.

"No, the other bandits were. I killed my father by using a Force Push spell to crush him against a tree."

"Bandits, hmm? Irksome creatures, those." Reaver was falling asleep. Garth supposed he shouldn't begrudge the Thief for it, seeing as he had just spent however long battling against a storm. "At least he's dead now. Torture is so unseemly. Best to shoot to kill, less mess that way…"

Garth allowed him to mumble without interruption, content with just lying with the Thief. He was warming up slowly, his hair drying against Garth. Garth tightened his hold on him.

"We'll reach the Spire soon," Reaver muttered suddenly. Garth flinched, realising he was right. They were what, two days away from it? It didn't matter; he would soon have to face that hateful place.

"It'll be all right." Reaver mumbled. Garth blinked and looked down at him, but when he finally found the words to answer, Reaver was asleep.