"His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly sailor, until he sails home"

Deacon's eyes began to drift as the sound of a woman's voice filled his ears. They flitted to the source of the noise and found Dea sitting on a crate not too far from him - lifting her head with closed eyes, allowing the words to leave her tongue and drift off in the wind that filled their sails. It was a gorgeous sight, and an even better experience when she continued the sea shanty:

"My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold"

They had just captured their second-to-last fugitive, who was secured in the brig below. While they were happy about the accomplishment, there was still some tension between him and Dea. It sprouted from their last conversation and had yet to leave. It was obvious they dreaded the end to this journey. It wouldn't be long until they had to face what they feared - and it was showing in their quiet voyage today.

He was grateful she was singing again. Her voice was equal to that of a siren - who captivated sailors to lure them into a deadly fate. He was ashamed to realize he would fall for such a spell if it was her voice.

"My name it is Maria, a merchant's daughter fair

And I have left my parents and three thousand pounds a year

Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be-"

"Did you know there are actual sirens out at sea?" He interrupted.

Dea stopped singing and turned to him in surprise. She sounded apprehensive. "You mean like mermaids?"

"Yes."

She stood up and walked over to him. "They're not real."

"Oh, but they are." He responded, pleased in knowing he had her full attention.

She looked at him with unimpressed eyes. "..Mermaids?" She began to tsk . "I think you've been reading too many fantasy novels, espía."

"It's true; I saw them for myself. It's the closest to death I've been so far."

Her look changed at this news. She appeared concerned, but still doubtful. He decided to indulge her.

"When a group of our sailors failed to report back to the Armada, we went to investigate their last known position in Aquila. I was assigned to captain the crew. We found the vessel shipwrecked on an island. Before we could search for any survivors, a group of sirens swarmed us and sang their song."

Dea's eyes were glued to him. He stopped speaking to admire how adorable she was, completely engrossed in this tale he was telling her. His silence prompted her to question him.

"So, if you ran into the sirens yourself…how did you survive?"

"I happen to have special earmuffs in my zendale, to soften the sound of my gun and the ship's cannons. They just barely protected me, so I made haste in leaving."

"..Did your crew make it out alive?"

"Many of them jumped overboard to try and pursue them. The Armada has made it a regulation for sailors to have wax in their ears, should they be in Aquila."

Dea took time digesting what he told her. He admired the gleam in her eyes. He was glad he could still entertain her amidst the small time they had left together.

"I don't know if any of that was true, but you're a great storyteller."

"If you should learn anything from it - make sure to stuff your ears with wax, if you're to be on Aquilian waters for long."

" Ooo, scary… "

"Dea, I genuinely mean that."

"Then where are the pictures of these mermaids, hmm ?"

"Ah, yes, my priority clearly was to grab my camera while my crewmembers jumped overboard into stormy waters…" He rolled his eyes.

"And where is the rest of this so-called 'crew' to validate your story?"

"How should I know?"

" Hah ! You were lying."

"I'm not going to argue with someone who doesn't believe in mermaids."

" Deacon! "

She smacked him playfully and he let out a good laugh. As he turned back to face the sea, something caught his attention. He gestured for her to take the wheel as he reached for his spyglass. He held it in front of an eye hole of his mask - confirming what he believed to see. One of their soldiers came running to them.

"Captains!" He exclaimed, out-of-breath.

"I see it," Deacon replied, motioning for him to leave. "Tell the crew to take their position."

Dea was clearly lost in what was happening and looked in the direction he was staring at. She could make out something from afar, but not clearly. She swiped the spyglass out of the Emissary's hands and took a look for herself. It was a pirate ship sailing quickly in their direction, with red sails and a blue octopus figurehead. She didn't recognize the sight as well as her partner did.

"Boochbeard.." He muttered.

"Boochbeard?" She repeated. He grabbed his spyglass from her and returned it in his coat. "Isn't that your arch enemy?"

" Quel tipo è proprio uno stronzo." He gritted his teeth and stomped back to the wheel, urging her aside. "He and his accomplice sank my last ship. They've been a thorn in my side for a long time."

"Why? Do you guys have history?"

"He just always seems to be around, causing me problems."

She watched as the pirate ship grew closer and more clear in their view. They weren't turning around or moving off course at all. She began to get worried and fingered the gun in her pocket, trying to remember the last time she loaded it with any bullets.

"Are we not going to avoid them?" She asked.

"This is personal," He seethed.

"Deacon – it's not worth the trouble. We have so many prisoners onboard, we shouldn't risk this..!"

"You don't know what he's taken from me!" He snapped. She stepped back at his outburst. "I nearly lost my job because of that idiot ! It's time to show them who they're trifling with."

She tugged on his caped shoulder to move him away from the wheel. He wasn't budging. "You don't need to do this! Don't do anything stupid !"

He moved his arm to shove her away. "Stay out of this and take your position."

"¡Qué demonios!"

There was no point in fighting him, so she prepared for the inevitable. She ordered their soldiers to prepare their cannons and load the rest of their weapons. She watched anxiously as the oncoming ship advanced on them. It was clear they intended on plundering them. They unloaded their cannons in their direction - a few landing on The Executioner and jolting it harshly. She stumbled forward and grabbed onto the railing to keep her balance. They launched cannonballs right back at them, equally damaging the ship and closing the distance between the two.

She bit her lip when she spotted rope being thrown and pirates sliding down to board their craft. Fortunately, their crew were prepared and took care of the trespassers. Dea listened to the sounds of gunshots and the clashing of blades below her. She warned her people of the influx of pirates coming from above, ordering them to make sure they did not access the brig.

"Dea, take the wheel!"

She turned her head to find Deacon grabbing his pistol from his sleeve and folding in his cane. He was preparing to join in on the commotion below. As he turned to leave, she grabbed his wrist and forced him to face her. His blue eyes widened in surprise at her display of authority.

"Just where do you think you're going!? We have a crew to take care of these Pirates - we need to stay back and make sure they don't reach our prisoners!"

"I have some unfinished business with his ruffian," He scowled under his mask, whipping his gloved hand out of her grasp.

"Deacon, you got us into this mess, don't make it any worse..!" She grit her teeth. "And don't leave me alone –!"

Her attempt at reasoning with him was futile. With a dramatic wave of his cape, he went down the steps and joined the battle. Dea wanted to slam her head into the wheel out of frustration. Why was he so willing to engage these Pirates? This was * not * what they needed right now..! They were almost finished with their mission…they shouldn't have gone looking for more trouble!

"Estúpido," She shook her head. "What a stubborn man…"

Her goal was to maintain control of the ship, but she noticed their soldiers were starting to struggle. They were growing outnumbered as the seconds went by. It was embarrassingly obvious that they had been unprepared for a sudden attack like this. She called the nearest person to take hold of the wheel and surfaced her gun, running down the steps and aiding in the fight.

She attacked any rogue who threw themselves at her and kept her distance from those with swords and daggers. It was hard to stay back in the midst of this scuffle. She suffered tears in her clothing and a blow to her mask. The hit threw her head back and she watched as her tall hat flew from her head and drifted into the ocean. She took a second to grieve this loss before shooting the man who had hit her - watching him fall to the floor in pain and stepping over his body to continue her defense.

'Where is Deacon!?' She thought as she scanned the crowds. She could find no trace of him until someone flew above her, riding on a rope and laughing loudly as they landed on the crow's nest. He was a short man wearing a blue admiral's uniform, equipped with a red sash and a golden badge.

"What do you zink of zat, you fiend?!" The man gloated, waving around a cane in his hand. Dea realized it was Deacon's - which was now being paraded around like a newly-acquired prize. "'Zis will be ze last day you capture anyone! Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité!"

"Gandry!" She heard Deacon exclaim from below. He was attempting to climb his way to him. "This is the last time you scoundrels will ruin my plans!"

"Ohoho, I think not!" Another voice joined in on the scene. Dea watched as a larger man in a red coat swiped at Deacon with his sword. The spymaster groaned as he was forced to grab hold of a nearby net so as to not fall off the ship entirely. "Every soul yer' holding deserves a right ta' freedom, and pirating! Yo-ho-ho!"

"They deserve a right to a trial and proper questioning," He countered, grabbing his gun and firing at him. He missed as Boochbeard heaved himself out of the way. He took this opportunity to lower himself back to the safety of the ground.

Dea ran from her position and aimed at the crow's nest, firing at who she presumed to be 'Gandry'. The man jumped and swung on the rope elsewhere. He went so quickly she couldn't properly aim her barrel in his direction. She looked back at her co-captain and found him face-to-face with the pirate, who thrust his sword forward, and he dodged in return. Deacon was too close to shoot him and was desperately trying to gain some distance.

Something swelled in her stomach seeing him cornered, so she shot at the bearded man. She didn't anticipate him crouching at that second, so her bullet only went through his black hat decorated with a jolly roger. He heard the sound and turned in surprise - his green eye that was not obscured by an eye patch meeting with hers.

"And who is zis?" Gandry's voice asked from above. He was perched on one of the masts. Boochbeard's laugh brought her attention back down.

"I see ye' got yerself a mate! She wouldn't happen ta' have the keys…would she?"

'Keys'? What keys? She looked to her partner - who was finally backed up enough to fire at him. He managed to shoot a crate nearby, which exploded upon impact, effectively throwing him and Boochbeard back onto the main deck.

"Ahh! Oh, that one hurt." The Pirate rubbed his bum in pain. Deacon hissed through his teeth as he returned to his feet. Gandry finally dropped down, landing right in front of Dea. He unsheathed his sword and aimed it at her, grinning as they finally met face-to-face.

"She is definitely from ze Armada, no doubt." He commented, eying her outfit from head-to-toe. Dea clutched the handle of her gun, attempting to back up a bit, but he took a step forward to meet her pace. "Tell me. Are zere any pockets in zat dress of yours?"

She twirled the gun in her hand tauntingly. "I don't know. Is this gun loaded?"

"Haha! I like her." Boochbeard looked over his shoulder at the two. "Gandry, check for some keys, would ye'?"

"On it!"

He jumped forward and Dea fumbled to step back in time. He pushed her onto her back and perched himself on top. She was uncomfortable with this position and went to knee him in the crotch, only for Gandry to see this move and throw himself aside to dodge it. He pounced on her afterwards and ran his hands along her dress, which only added to her detest with this situation.

"I do not see any!" He soon exclaimed. While his head was turned, she threw her elbow back into his face, knocking him off of her and face-planting him into the floorboards.

"Ooh! That had to hurt!" Boochbeard winced.

Deacon took his distraction to advantage and pistol whipped him on the side of his head, sending Boochbeard onto the floor beside Gandry. Dea rushed to his side to check him for injuries, but had no time before the two recovered quickly, sprinting to their feet and taking a fighting stance across from them. Dea and Deacon returned the gesture, circling away slowly.

"What 'key' are they talking about?" She whispered.

"The key to the brig." Deacon was clearly irritated. "They're here to take our prisoners."

"See!? Didn't I tell you-"

"So!" Boochbeard's voice broke them out of their hushed conversation. "How's about giving us those keys, matey?"

"How about I arrest you two for infiltrating an Armada ship?" He retorted.

"It is disgusting how you proclaim 'justice', yet arrest whoever you want," Gandry spat near their shoes. "We will be taking zose prisoners, whezer you like it or not."

"Good luck with that," Deacon replied, aiming his barrel behind them and shooting another explosive crate that happened to sit in their vicinity.

The blast threw them in different directions, but Boochbeard and Gandry received the worst of it. Dea coughed as a cloud of smoke surrounded her. She took control of her breathing before standing and looking around for her partner. She found Deacon physically wrestling with Boochbeard, who was missing his sword this time. He was unable to stop him from tearing off a large keyring from the side of his hip.

"Got it!" He boasted, holding them up high.

As Dea ran to help, Gandry was above them swinging on a rope again - grabbing the keys from Boochbeard's hand and flying off with them. His laughter rang loud throughout the ship.

"Shit!" Both she and Deacon swore unanimously.

Right as she arrived at the scene, Boochbeard managed to snag something else from Deacon's pocket while he was distracted. She pointed her gun at the menace until he spotted her, then did something that took her by surprise. He grabbed her wrist and attached something tightly to it, before yanking Deacon with his other hand and fastening the same thing to him.

They stared at each other, dumbfounded, before glancing at their wrists. It took a second to realize what it was:

Deacon's handcuffs.

Boochbeard chortled and began making his escape. They tailed after him until Gandry made his appearance again, running down the staircase that led to the brig. Dea went to pursue him while Deacon was still chasing Boochbeard, which caused the chain to tighten and send them both tumbling to the ground. Their fall was graceless and made them scuff their knees.

He shot her an aggravated look under the bauta. "We need to catch him before he escapes!"

"No! Gandry is the one with the keys! We need to get to the brig before he–"

Before she could finish, they were interrupted by the sound of metal bars clanking together. It was followed by the collective noise of whooping, hollering, and footsteps. They realized what this meant far before their prisoners came running up the steps and joining the fight above deck. They were now impossibly outnumbered.

Dea was fuming while Deacon struggled to get them to their feet. "Why didn't you listen to me!? Now we're-"

"-I'm aware of the situation!" He yelled back, looking around and thinking of what to do.

She wasn't entirely sure on what move to make herself. Their priority was to get themselves out of sight, slipping through the mass and moving to return back to the wheel. As soon as they reached the staircase, both Boochbeard and Gandry were at the bottom waiting for them. There was enough distance and time for Deacon to grab his pistol and shoot at them.

…Only for the bullet to miss entirely, ricocheting off the armor of a nearby soldier and landing elsewhere.

Dea stared at him in astonishment. He was a better shot than her - how in the hell did he miss at point blank? The Emissary held his position for several seconds before lowering his weapon.

"How could you have missed them? They're right there!" She derided. Deacon snapped right back at her.

"I don't know if you've ever noticed, but I'm left-handed."

It was then she realized which of their hands was currently locked in the handcuffs. His right side was the one that was free, while her left remained unencumbered. This worked to their disadvantage, as she happened to be right-handed, and him the opposite. She'd miss even worse than he did if she tried shooting at them now.

There was little they could do as Boochbeard and Gandry captured them, tying the two of them to the bottom of the main mast of the ship with bulky rope. Since they were handcuffed together, Dea and Deacon were forced to sit closely. The fact that their hands were hindered made the possibility of escape even more difficult. The rest of their crew was missing - and she had the faintest feeling they were in the brig below, locked behind bars like their convicts once were.

Boochbeard and Gandry rounded up the newly-freed prisoners together and took a hold of the wheel. The Executioner was now in their control - and the captains completely in their hands.

"Well! Thank ye' for cooperatin' with us! I think we got everybody." Boochbeard grinned as he peered down at them. He leaned down to pat Deacon on the shoulder. "Maybe next time, buddy?"

The Armada Elite was not happy. "Vaffanculo."

"They seem a little sour," Gandry commented as he joined his friend's side. "Shall we leave zem be?"

"Eh, they ain't going nowhere. Full speed ahead, Dominick!"

The pair laughed as they returned back to the wheel. They were now surrounded by the ones they had captured, who looked at them in disdain. The tension was unbearably thick and Dea began wiggling her fingers nervously. Were they going to kill her and Deacon? Torture them? Like the Armada was planning to do to *them*?

She gulped when a large man came over and stopped in front of them. He looked at her for a second before redirecting his attention to Deacon. Then he grinned - displaying his crooked teeth wickedly.

"Doesn't feel good when * you're * the one captured, huh? Asshole. Do you remember everything you've done to me!?"

The spymaster had little to say to that, so he kept staring at him. This only angered the man, who quickly succumbed to his rage and slammed his boot hard against his chest. Deacon began coughing and wheezing, shifting in their constraints uncomfortably. Dea turned her head and saw the trail of blood falling down his neck - the only part of his skin she could really see with his uniform.

'Jesus,' She mouthed.

"Hurts, doesn't it!?" The man bellowed. The veins in his neck were protruding - he was pissed . "How about I take off that mask so you can look me in the eye? Like you did with me?"

He crouched downwards and reached out to grasp the bottom of Deacon's bauta. Dea knew she couldn't stomach what was about to happen, nor had to see his face like this, so she turned away and tightly shut her eyes. Things were quiet until she heard a loud bump, followed by the man's exclamation:

"Fuck!"

She opened her eyes and turned around. A bruise was forming on the man's forehead while some blood had splattered on Deacon's white mask. It was still in its place and the man clutched his face painfully - giving Dea the impression that her partner had just headbutted him, rather than allowing him to reveal his face.

"That's it! Motherfucker–"

"-Korbin! Stop!" A man stepped forward, holding him back to prevent him from pouncing on their once-warden. "Remember what's going to happen to them? You don't need to do anything!"

"You think that's gonna' be enough ? These two deserve a good-"

"-Come on, man, let's put something on your head and have you lie down."

Korbin was led away, making Dea internally sigh in relief. The prisoners around them regarded them one last time before leaving to attend to other things. She assumed they were robbing their gold and taking whatever they fancied. She thought about the cabin she and Deacon shared, and frowned to think it was being rummaged through right now.

She glanced to her right to see her partner laying against the wood, eyes closed. She could hear him slightly wheezing as he breathed.

"..Deacon?" She whispered, nudging him with her hip. "Are you okay?"

He slowly opened his eyes and regarded their surroundings before looking at her. He gave a slight nod, but did not say anything.

"That looked bad…are you sure-"

"Let's not worry about me right now," He whispered back, continuing to eye what was around them as the ship sailed to who-knows-where. Something caught his attention. His eyes brightened and he turned back to her eagerly. "Dea, my cane is right over there. Kick it towards me."

"Your cane?" She inquired, looking for herself and finding his cane sitting across from them. Gandry must've dropped it at some point. "How is that going to help us? We can't reach anything."

"There is a knife under the handgrip. If we unscrew it, we can cut through this rope."

"Oh, my god," She scoffed, reaching her leg out and catching the end of the handle with her boot. "Of COURSE you would have one of those."

He watched attentively as she kicked it towards him, then used his shoe to push it near enough for him to grip the handle with his fingers. He spun it around and took the time to discreetly unscrew it. Dea kept an eye out for anyone watching them in the meantime. It wasn't long before she heard the cane drop to the floor and felt some movement on the rope holding them down.

"Is it working?"

"Yes. Just a little more-"

"-Hey! What are you two doing!?"

Their heads shot up to spot one of the prisoners pointing at them. Deacon rushed through the rest of his cut and managed to snap off the rope. He used the knife to slice the brute's face, sending them off their tail. He started running and Dea allowed him to take the lead - not wanting to struggle and fall like they did last time.

"Where are we going!?" She squeaked.

"Escape boat. I'm afraid we have little choice right now."

He slowed down once the boat was in sight. He wasted no time in preparing to release it. They heard some shouting coming from their left and glanced up to see more of the prisoners running in their direction. He threw them onto the boat together and slashed the final rope - sending them falling unceremoniously toward the waters below.

Their landing was rough and caused the breath to escape both of their lungs. Once they recovered, Deacon sat up and reached for the oar - starting the tedious act of paddling away from the ship. Dea lifted her head to see the men huddled above watching them. The large outline of Boochbeard joined them, and he waved off in their direction, dispersing the crowd and allowing them to escape.

She cried in relief.