Their time on the island was comically domestic. Cutler realised that his routines as a Lord had made him forget how much he enjoyed hard work. The pomp, the outfits, society gatherings, the ceremonies... Did he miss it?

On that first night, the pair had slept on the sand near the fire for a small number of hours. Upon waking Cutler knew they needed to adapt to their situation if they were going to survive. Over the next few days, the pair collected and dragged as much of the driftwood from the shore that they could. They set it high on the craggy rocks to the left of the small beach they'd arrived on. The larger pieces of wood that they couldn't lift were left on the sand as far away from the water as they could move it. It would become useful, he was certain. They placed some larger pieces against one another to create a shelter should they need it.

Maris had taken to foraging around for fruit and plants which could be eaten. Cutler set about collecting scraps of wood and kindling to create a stockpile for the fire. He covered it with large palm leaves to stop it getting wet or blowing away. Together they dug a hole with their hands to keep the food in - it was about four feet deep. They lined it with the torn up flag that had washed ashore.

Exploring the small island they were stuck on was an inevitable task. Yet there was a reluctance to leave the perceived safety of the beach. Cutler planned to leave the girl there for her own safety but she wouldn't have it.

"I insist that you stay here so that should I encounter anything dangerous you will not get hurt." His voice was curt and it usually sent people scrambling away to follow his orders but not her. Never her.

"It's a funny time for you to start worrying about my well-being," she pointed out. She raised an eyebrow at him while kicking at the wet sand gently with her toes.

"I'd rather come along and die by your side than wait here to die. And as romantic as that might sound, don't get your hopes up" she added after he opened his mouth to make a snide comment. "If we're going to die because of some hidden danger then don't you think it's only fair that you don't prolong my death by playing the hero?"

He could feel his face growing red at her comment.

"I'm not getting my hopes up and I am not playing the hero," his voice was calm. Although he'd tried to mask the anger he felt rising inside it was still clear in his voice.

Maris sighed. She walked around him and, bending down, scooped up a large tree branch from the pile of firewood. Cutler watched as she tested the weight of it before turning to face him. She leaned it against her shoulder as you would a club.

"You can lead the way if that makes you feel better" she added when she discovered him staring at her.

That was how they found the small spring.

Cutler stopped in his tracks when he came across it. Maris had walked into him before ducking under his outstretched arm. She stood at his side with his arm draped over her shoulders as he held back the leaves of the foliage beside them. It was a beautiful scene that greeted them. Water trickled down from somewhere between the tall twisting rocks that formed much of the island. It flowed over rock after rock until it ended in the small pool surrounded by large fawns and tall trees.

"Luck must be on our side" Maris commented but Cutler didn't respond. Instead, he took a few steps forwards until he reached the edge of the water and bent down. He scooped some of the water up with his hands before cupping it into his mouth.

It was refreshing and warm. The temperature didn't bother him for at that moment it was the most delicious water he'd ever tasted. He reached for the empty canteen at his side and began to fill it. Maris followed his lead and took water in her own cupped hands. Later that same day they had both returned to spring alone to bathe in privacy.

He would have enjoyed his days on the island if the tragic loss of The Endeavour wasn't hanging over him. Add to that the defeat by the Pirate Lords and the fact that the woman he had ordered kidnapped from her home was with him...

As it was he couldn't get rid of the black cloud that seemed to follow him around. Cutler longed for rescue, but at the same time, he didn't want to leave the island and face reality quite yet. And so, secretly, he took joy from bathing alone in the spring. He enjoyed collecting what he felt would be useful for survival and sleeping under the stars. He particularly liked it when thunder rumbled on the horizon. He wouldn't admit it but he also began to enjoy speaking to Maris Teague. She was not like her brother at all.

The snippets he managed to drag out of her offered quite the insight into her family life.

The afternoon of day Eighteen had been a rainy one, and they had taken shelter under some short sat with his back against a tree trunk looking out at the moody sea while Maris was to his left, lying on her side with her head resting on the crook of her elbow.

"Do you think you will ever be welcome back at Shipwreck?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

She didn't reply and he thought that perhaps she was falling asleep. When he looked down at her she was looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

"No" she responded a moment later, glancing back at the sea.

"Why not?" he pressed, curious, and she exhaled deeply before sitting up, cross legged.

"I decided a long time ago that I never wanted to go back, but if I changed my mind I do not think I would be welcome. Not after Jack allowed you to take me back to The Endeavour as he did."

"Why do you think he allowed me to take you?"

Maris turned to look at him at that question. She searched his face as though the answer to his question might be there somewhere. As though he might know and was testing her.

"You tell me" she replied, and when he didn't respond she frowned. "Do you know?" she prompted and he shook his head.

"In all honesty, I believed he would at least draw his sword to defend your honour… or to rescue you. Not join you and allow us to separate you" he replied, an eyebrow rising as he spoke.

A thought occurred to Cutler then as the two returned to one of their silences. Perhaps Jack Sparrow thought that he and Maris were allies? He recalled the anger in Jack's glare as Cutler had held Maris by the wrist. Sparrow had even tensed when Jones had startled Maris and she had moved closer to Cutler. Perhaps Jack Sparrow thought that Maris had betrayed him?

That was interesting…

The rain stopped an hour or so after it first began and the pair resumed their new version of normality. The gentle downpour had set them back and as the sun would be setting within the hour they agreed to split the workload. Cutler was tasked with starting the fire while Maris walked further along the shore to check for freshly ripened fruit on the trees to accompany their evening meal of fish. It was shortly after Cutler got the fire going properly that he realised the darkening sky was heavier than it had been not long before. It was as this realisation sank in that the heavens opened with near-torrential rain, forcing Cutler to abandon the now-extinguished fire and run down the shore to the driftwood shelter.

Within seconds he was soaked to the bone and as he huddled beneath the makeshift wooden structure he ran his hand through his hair, releasing the water droplets held there. Up ahead, he could see Maris running towards him and he chuckled, amused at the sight of her. It wasn't long before she skidded into the shelter, hardly slowing down from her sprint. Cutler raised his hands to stop her from fully slamming into him and chuckled again as she plopped down onto the floor, breathless.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed once she caught her breath.

"You're getting everything wet" Cutler teased, flicking the rainwater off of his arms where their bodies had collided. Maris sat up from her position on the floor and smiled at him,

"Please forgive me, my Lord" she shot back, "please accept these as a token of my apology". In her hand, she held a bunch of small, ripe bananas. Dinner.

What Cutler had assured would be a short downpour was still going strong some hours later. Without a fire, the pair had to sit close to one another to stay as warm as possible.

"Do you think we will ever be rescued?" Maris' question caught Cutler off guard. He took the peel of the banana he had just finished eating and carefully threw it outside of the shelter before turning to look at her.

"It's difficult to know for sure. It all depends on what the immediate aftermath of the battle was and who did what."

"How so?"

"Well, it depends on how many Naval vessels survived. If there were enough, they would likely have started rescue missions for the men from the ships which were destroyed. The wounded would be the first priority, and they would be returned to land."

"It's been over two weeks now, though…"

"That's true. Another thing to consider is that The Endeavour housed many important documents and… objects. These, the East India Trading Company would want to recover, and they would leave no stone unturned…" he gestured to the beach, "no shore unsearched."

These followed a silence as Maris considered his words.

"I think that we will be rescued," Maris told him in a confident tone. "I trust that they will do the right thing".

They were huddled so close together and Maris was looking at him with those eyes of hers, so open and trusting. She was a pretty thing and he had stolen her. He had used the power granted to him by the Company to take Maris and use her as a means to an end, and yet she held in her heart faith in the very system that had allowed this to happen. This acknowledgement in his mind caused a pang of something in his chest that he registered as guilt. It pained him.

"Cutler?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. His gaze lowered from her face to her mouth momentarily before his eyes found hers once more and then, before he realised what he was doing, Cutler leaned forward, his hand reaching out to touch her cheek. He closed the distance between them and his lips pressed against hers for the briefest of moments. His face hovered close to hers for a second or two more before he sat back, putting a little bit more distance between them - or at least as much as was possible in these close quarters.

"We should sleep," he suggested, not waiting for a response before turning away from her and laying down with his back towards her. She didn't move immediately and he could sense her eyes on him, but eventually the sound of her shuffling into her own sleeping position could be heard.

And then, late in the morning of day nineteen, something appeared on the horizon that drew closer and closer. Cutler realised it was a boat after he raised his hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the bright sun. Maris was bathing and he didn't know whether to alert her or to stay on the shore. He opted to remain on the shore so that their presence shouldn't be overseen, and as he watched the boat sail closer still, a sense of dread filled his stomach as he realised that he wasn't ready to go back.