It was still dark when Tanden woke up.

Despite how the evening had started, they had ended up in the captain's quarters. Tanden stared at the ceiling for a long time, watching the way the moonlight flickering off of the water outside flashed across the wood. Enjoying the weight of Soren's arm over his chest. Feeling the gentle swaying of the Wanderlust. Trying his best to not dwell on everything Soren had said the previous evening.

But it was impossible not to dwell, when everything Soren had said was so accurate. Not for the first time, Tanden wondered if he was really giving Soren everything he wanted. Everything he deserved. Tanden didn't want to be the type of person who only ever took.

He rolled onto his side to face Soren. He didn't want to think, but he was too awake to fall back asleep. So there was really only one option. He lay a hand on Soren's cheek, prickly from a few days' worth of stubble.

"Soren, mate?" He shifted a little closer to kiss Soren's forehead. "Are you awake?"

Soren grunted in reply.

"Interested in going for another round?"

Without opening his eyes, Soren smiled. "Reckon I could manage."

"Don't make me sound like a chore, mate."

Soren rolled, tugging Tanden along with him. Tanden found himself straddling Soren, the blankets tangled around and between them. With an annoyed huff, he pulled the sheets out of the way. Soren didn't help other than to move an arm out of the way for a moment, before he rested his hand on Tanden's hip again.

Once the blankets were out of the way, Tanden slid his hands over Soren's warm chest. His previous concern came back unbidden, and his hands went still.

"You are my equal."

Soren half-laughed, half-groaned, resting his head back on the pillow. "I talked too much, and now you're thinking too much. I know." His hands left Tanden's hips to slide up over his chest. He rubbed the ivory pendant on Tanden's necklace, then slipped his hands over Tanden's shoulders. He tugged and Tanden obliged, leaning down to meet Soren's lips.

"I know I'm your equal," Soren said, as their lips broke apart. "Now stop thinking, and fuck me."

One of those was easier to do than the other, but Tanden did his best to stop thinking and let his body take over. His body knew what to do, even if he couldn't get his mind to cooperate. Instead of dwelling on their earlier conversation, Tanden tried to focus on Soren—his cues, the words he was moaning, the ways he was moving. Tanden tried to give Soren exactly what he wanted.

They weren't quite finished when Tanden heard what sounded like a shriek. He froze, and beneath him, Soren propped himself up on his elbows. There was a moment of silence, while Tanden tried to decide if it had truly been a shriek, or if it had been more of a laugh. Some of the men, maybe, still drunk and enjoying their celebration.

Then they heard it again, echoing across the still waters of the night. Followed immediately by other alarmed shouts.

They were out of bed in an instant, pulling on clothes as they hurried across the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Tanden saw Soren grab a cutlass and almost thought of grabbing one himself. Then he opened the door to the captain's quarters and was stopped in his tracks by a sword pointing at his chest.

The first thing he really considered was how unprepared he was. Hastily pulled on pants and a tunic with trailing laces. No knife, no sword. He wasn't even wearing boots.

The second thing that occurred to him was that it was Rico at the other end of the sword, and that there were strangers standing behind him.

Tanden held up his hands, part placating, but mostly blocking the doorway so Soren couldn't push around him. "Rico." He said the name steadily. He may have not been sure how to act around Soren these days, but being a leader nearly always came easily. He was well trained. He smoothly slipped into what he jokingly called his 'lord act'. "We can discuss this without the sword pointing at my chest. I'm unarmed."

"I'm not sure you can even hold a sword," Rico replied. He was standing differently, Tanden realized. His shoulders pushed back, better posture. It transformed him from the nervous sailor they had known to someone much more formidable.

It was better if Rico believed what he had said, so Tanden didn't correct him. "Regardless, I'm unarmed."

"Soren isn't."

"Soren," Tanden said. "I appreciate your protective nature, but I'm better in this sort of situation than you are." He hoped Rico would assume he meant talking through conflict, but that Soren would understand that he meant the sword.

He heard Soren mutter something under his breath, and then the clatter of the cutlass hitting the floor.

"There," Tanden said, giving Rico his most diplomatic smile. "Nothing to worry about on our end."

Rico took a step back, but kept the sword point steady. "Come out, then, and give us your hands."

Tanden cautiously left the protection of the doorframe, and offered his arms to the nearest stranger. While the man roughly bound his wrists together, Tanden watched Rico.

"I suspect I've been addressing you incorrectly, and I apologize. What should I call you from now on?"

Rico nodded at one of the other strangers, indicating that the man should move to restrain Soren. He turned back to Tanden. "Captain."

"Ah." Tanden nodded. "Captain of the—" He noticed it then, behind Rico and the strangers, another ship pulled up beside the Wanderlust. She wasn't a big ship, maybe two thirds the Wanderlust's length with triangular Alvarian-style sails. A memory came to him. "You said you lost your ship to pirates."

"I couldn't very well tell you that I lead them."

"No," Tanden agreed, "I suppose not."

Rico slipped his sword back into its sheath and strode off without a word. The men holding Tanden and Soren tugged him along behind him. Rico stopped at the bulwark, looking towards the beach. In the still flickering bonfires, Tanden could see his crew lined up on their knees. He could also see bodies, lying still in the sand, and hoped they were the pirates. Surely some of the men weren't drunk enough to have been easily overpowered. Or the women—Jale and Elorie hadn't been drinking.

Tanden was pushed forward to stand at the bulwark with him, and Soren was held back. Tanden cast him a quick look before trying to once again be diplomatic. "Captain Rico, may I ask what will happen next? The Wanderlust is quite the prize, in of herself, not to mention our cargo. What about my crew?"

"We might take some of them on," Rico said. "Slavers will pay well for the rest of them."

Tanden clenched his bound fists, but managed to maintain his tone. "I'm sure that's unnecessary. I have a very capable crew. They would all be excellent additions to your ship."

"Ships."

Tanden's eyes flashed towards the one ship tucked up against the Wanderlust. Then he realized that there were two more, floating further away. They looked eerie and ghost-like in the moonlight. "Even better," Tanden said. "You'll have room for all of them, then."

"How many of your crew could I trust?" Rico asked. "Oh, maybe some of them are happy to work for whoever's paying, but too many of them are yours. I could never trust them."

"That's not..." Tanden struggled to sound sincere. "You could trust them."

Rico smirked. "Not even you believe that." Spinning on his heel, he addressed his men in Alvarian. "Get everyone aboard the Exhun!"

***

What angered Soren most was the distance between himself and Tanden. Rico kept Tanden close as the whole group moved over to the smaller Alvarian ship. Soren knew he couldn't do much with his hands bound, but he still wanted to be near Tanden. A comforting presence at his side, if nothing else.

Tanden stood beside Rico, talking amicably, while Soren was held further back by two men. Tanden was being as charming as always, but it wasn't helping. Rico clearly wasn't impressed, tapping his foot on the deck of his ship impatiently. Over on the beach, the crew was getting shoved and manhandled into rowboats, and then brought over to the pirate ship.

Soren had seen the bodies on the beach. He made note of every sailor who struggled to climb aboard the ship. He knew Tanden would be doing the same. They were responsible for every person on their ship, and even if Soren didn't consider them all friends, he would mourn the loss of any of them. Even so, he felt immense relief every time one of their friends climbed over the bulwark and was roughly pushed into a line along the opposite side of the ship.

Roan was the first of their friends to appear, bruised and holding his right arm awkwardly but otherwise seeming all right. The next rowboat carried over Ivern, a cut across his forehead bleeding into his eyes, which he tried to wipe away with his forearm. The next two boats held only other crewmembers, but the fifth arrived with both Jerios and Jale aboard. A gash across Jerios's thigh made him stumble as he climbed over the bulwark. Jale hopped over a moment later, growling threats at the pirates who had moved towards Jerios. When they stepped back warily, she tugged Jerios to his feet and slung his arm over her shoulders. Then she looked at Tanden and said something in Tallenese.

Tanden nodded briskly. Soren couldn't read the expression on his face.

Rico frowned. "Another word in that language and I'll gut your northern bitch. What did she say?"

"That everyone else is dead," Tanden said dryly.

Soren's heart dropped. There were five sailors unaccounted for. Three men, Elorie, and... "Ara?"

He wasn't prepared for Rico, and most of the pirates to look at him. But he ignored them all, meeting Tanden's gaze across the deck, looking for any sort of reassurance. Maybe Jale had said something else? Why would she choose Tallenese if not to share a secret?

"Oh." Rico shrugged. "The boy whore? That's a shame. My men would have liked having him on board."

Soren yanked against the men holding him. He actually managed to pull away, but immediately nearly lost his balance and was grabbed again. The pirates shoved him to the deck and pinned him in place.

"Soren," Tanden called over the pirates. "It's all right, mate. He's... he's gone back to his goddess."

It took a moment for Soren's panic to settle enough for him to actually hear what Tanden had said. Ara was Morcean. He had a god, not a goddess. Cautious hope fluttered in his chest.

"Makes some sense that they'd get so worked up over a boy whore."

The new voice sent chills through Soren, because it wasn't a new voice. It was an old one. He tried to look up, but the pirates pinning him down wouldn't let him budge.

Tanden confirmed his fears. "Toliver. I was wondering where you had gone."

"I'm not playin' your game. You, get 'im up!" Boots thudded across the deck.

Soren was tugged to his feet. Toliver was standing right in front him, just as bold and handsome as he had been two years ago. He wore a long nautical jacket, belted at the waist with an enormous gold buckle. His Crelan tattoo, which had before stopped at his neck, now swirled up the left side of his face and into his beard. An unusual look, but a good one. Every finger was adorned with a ring, demonstrating—or at least creating the illusion of—wealth.

Soren forced himself to meet Toliver's green eyes. This was the man he had adored for so many years, before really learning who he was. Before meeting Tanden. Toliver was still dazzlingly attractive, but Soren felt nothing for him. Learning the truth had soured Toliver's appeal.

Toliver reached out to pat Soren's cheek. "I'll take 'im over t' the Wanderlust with me t' look 'round. Should keep the lord subdued for you."

The calm demeanor Tanden had managed to maintain disappeared instantly. "Touch him again, Toliver, and I'll rip you apart."

Toliver sighed. "Not as intimidatin' without your name t' fall back on. Come, Soren. Let's see what your ship has t' offer."

The pirates pushed Soren to follow as Toliver walked up the ramp that had been placed between the ships. Soren followed quietly, wishing there was something he could do. Hoping an idea would come to him. But too much was going on in his head, worry for Tanden and the rest of the crew, tentative hope for Ara, fury at Rico, and fear for himself. The last time he had been remotely alone with Toliver, he had nearly been killed.

But Toliver paid him little attention as he strolled across the Wanderlust's deck, like he owned her, and into the captain's quarters. Once inside, he tutted and picked up Soren's dropped cutlass. He put it on the desk before opening the drawers and rummaging through their ledgers and paperwork.

The pirates pushed Soren against the wall. He knew nothing he said could fix anything, and he certainly didn't want to make things worse, so he stayed quiet as Toliver slowly looked through their belongings. When he was done with the desk, he went to the shelves, brushing aside things they had collected to look at the books behind them. He left a mess behind himself, completely unconcerned. It was hard to hold his tongue, but Soren managed, growing more frustrated with every new thing Toliver touched.

Then Toliver's exploring reached the bed, and he touched the set of cuffs still locked to it. "Soren? You let that Teltish bastard chain you down? Maybe you're not as interested in 'im as he thinks you are, aye? D'you think of me when he uses you?" He looked over, grinning. "Or, d'you chain 'im down? Good for you, mate! Does the great Lord Captain Tanden of West Draulin like bein' manhandled?"

Soren fixed Toliver with the harshest gaze he could manage, and didn't say a word.

"Well, whatever you use it for, it's perfect," Toliver said. "Bring 'im over."

The pirates walked Soren across the room.

Toliver, grin growing, pushed Soren to sit on the bed and snapped the end of the manacle around his left wrist.

"This really is perfect," Toliver said, beaming. "Couldn't've planned it better if I tried. All right, mates, take all the paperwork. We'll comb through it later." He waved dismissively at the pirates, who quickly got to work gathering up the ledgers. As they worked, Toliver turned back to Soren, smiling. "I'm not playin' a game this time, Soren. Only wish Lorca was here t' see it."

***

As pirates swarmed the Wanderlust and moved her cargo onto the Exhun, Tanden was tied to the Exhun's mainmast. He watched furiously as Rico walked along the row of his crew, asking each one if they were willing to become pirates. A few had timidly agreed, but Tanden couldn't blame them. They were only trying to protect themselves.

When Rico stepped in front of Jale, she didn't even wait for him to ask. "If I wanted to work for a cowardly drunkard, I could have found one back home. Wouldn't have had to waste so much time sailing down south."

"That was all an act," Rico said, sounding just a bit insulted, and just a bit like the timid translator he had pretended to be.

"Was it? Attacking us in the middle of the night seems like a brave thing to do?"

Rico's hand went to his sword. "I'm not going to give you a choice. We're going to keep you, until you're so used up that the slavers won't even want you."

Jale adjusted the way Jerios' arm was resting on her shoulders. "Is that all? Bit predictable."

Tanden simultaneously wanted to cheer her on, and tell her to stop. But suddenly he didn't need to do either, because another familiar voice had chimed in.

It was Elorie, climbing up a staircase from belowdecks. "You swore she wouldn't be hurt."

Rico swore in Alvarian and turned around. He spoke to her in Alvarian, and she replied, too quickly for Tanden to reliably understand. But he caught enough of it to understand that Elorie and Rico had known each other for many years.

The betrayal hurt more than Rico's had. "Elorie?"

She didn't look over at him. "I'm sorry. But—" She didn't finish her excuse, because Toliver hopped back onto the Exhun's deck, followed by the two pirates, clutching bundles of paperwork.

"That's everything worthwhile," Toliver announced. "The rest o' the cargo isn't worth our trouble. So we're ready t' move, Captain Rico."

Rico started shouting orders. Tanden pulled against his bonds, terror tightening his chest. "Toliver! Where's Soren?"

The Exhun began to glide away from the Wanderlust. With a cocky, cruel grin, Toliver crossed the deck to lean against the mainmast beside him. "Lord Tanden of West Draulin. You once burned down my ship and killed my first mate. I'm only takin' what I'm owed."

Tanden blinked, and the front of the Wanderlust burst into flame.