Chapter Text
After setting aside the chess set, Chip brings out a few sheets of paper on the table where Pretzel can see it, and starts writing a letter. His handwriting is a bit hard to read, given that he never went to school, but the flowing shapes are clearly a quirk of being taught by Finn Tidestrider. Pretzel follows along and shakes her head disapprovingly.
"I figured you wouldn't like it either, but I'll give you a treat if you help me out," Chip promises.
With a resigned noise, she hops back into her flask and watches Chip's quill pen intently. It scratches across the page, nearly finishing a sentence before it runs out of ink again. "Ugh, I should've gotten one of those fancy fountain pens back when I could," Chip grumbles to himself while dipping it in the ink pot. He holds up the letter to Pretzel. "That should be enough, right?"
She shakes her head again.
"What, needs more detail?" he asks, which gets a confirmation. "I don't even know what else is supposed to go in an official divorce letter."
This exchange goes on for a while, mostly with Pretzel gesturing yes or no to Chip's questions. At one point she jumps out of her flask again to point at a specific line, but the water causes the ink to run and Chip has to rewrite the whole page.
Jay notices him writing this letter while sitting on the main deck. Normally she would've written letters in the privacy of the lower deck, but Chip is doing it out in the open, so she peeks over his shoulder.
"Ooh, a love letter. Are you looking forward to seeing your wife again?" she teases.
Chip is too exhausted from his crash course in legalese to participate in banter. "No. I'm trying to figure out this legal bullshit, but what the hell do I know about laws? We're pirates! I shouldn't even have to do this." He sets the quill pen down and puts his head in his hands.
While he isn't looking, Jay reaches down to grab the letter and take a closer look. But Chip notices in time to block her hand anyway and stop her from picking it up. "I'm not letting you fuck this up," he says.
Jay sighs. "You really think I don't want to help? The sooner we get your dumb divorce settled the sooner we can get back on our original course."
"I know, I know," Chip says. "But this is important. I have to figure it out."
"Can't this wait?" Jay asks. "You said yourself that you needed to help Ollie."
Chip bites his lip. It was selfish of him to ask for this detour back to Loffinlot, but when Gillion agreed, it was two captains against one.
Jay knows why he wants to go, but she isn't going to reveal that, because it's funnier watching Chip desperately try to hide it. She's happy for them, really, but this diversion is still a waste of time to her.
"Did you need me?" Ollie calls out, rapidly approaching Chip, Jay, and Pretzel.
Chip hastily stuffs the papers into his pocket and picks up Pretzel's flask. "No, we're fine, nothing to see here. I'm just gonna go bring Pretzel back to Gillion," he says, getting up and walking to the side rail.
Chip looks over the edge into the sea, trying to find a glimpse of the blue man in those blue waters. "GILL!" he shouts, once he gives up on the search.
After a moment, Gillion's head pokes up above the water. In one hand he starts holding up a net. "There was a whole school of mackerel!" he says triumphantly.
"Do you need Pretzel back?" Chip asks, holding the flask over the railing.
"Sure, she can help me bring in the catch!" Gillion shouts back. Pretzel excitedly swims against the edge of her glass bowl, knocking the whole flask out of Chip's hand and into the sea. Gillion catches it and clips the flask to his belt again, while Pretzel climbs out and across his arms to secure the net. Together they approach the rope ladder, and Chip reaches down to help pull the net in too.
Ollie helps with sorting the fish and bringing them below deck for Earl to cook. Any bycatch is tossed back into the sea, while Gillion carefully inspects and folds up his net.
The fishing net was beautifully woven from natural fibers, into complex and almost decorative patterns of knots and twists. It was weighed down at the edges with small conch shells. Gillion takes care to ensure that nothing is tangled, so that he can easily open it on his next fishing dive.
This was one of the traditional crafts of his people. Nets that washed ashore were often admired by land dwellers, afraid to use them for fishing, and instead hung up as good luck charms. But for him, such a beautiful and delicate net was meant to change and decay. New stories were told with every repair woven into the holes. A real triton net showed the life it lived.
As things settle down, Chip glances around furtively and notices Jay disappear below deck. "Hey Gill," he says, sitting down next to Gillion. He leans in for a kiss, ready to taste the ocean breeze on Gillion's lips.
Unexpectedly, Gillion leans away, turning his head so that the kiss lands on his cheek instead. "Uh, hey, Chip," he says shakily. He puts a hand on Chip's shoulder and gives him a very quick kiss on the cheek in return.
Chip can't really hide his disappointment. The kiss they shared on Desire Island was nothing short of life changing, and now that he thinks they have a common understanding of the relationship, he's hungry for more. He remembers the soft, cool touch of Gillion's lips on his. The tenderness, the care, the surge of affection that filled his heart. Even the pure sensation of that kiss always lingered in the back of his mind, coming back in vivid memory especially on lonely nights. Back then, his entire lower half was locked up in stone, but whenever he recalls the moment, just a part of him feels that way again.
"Sorry for kissing you on Desire Island," Gillion says bashfully, avoiding eye contact. His hand is still on Chip's shoulder, keeping him an arm's length away.
"No, don't be," Chip says, putting his hand on Gillion's. "I really, really liked that, and I've been wanting to kiss you again."
Gillion wasn't ready for this, especially not here on the deck of the ship.
When he kissed Chip to solve the puzzle, it didn't take a moment's thought. He always kissed close friends and family underseas, and Chip became part of that circle too. They dueled for honor and their bond became stronger for it. They promised to be honest, and loving each other was the truth.
But Rose Colored Spectacles told an entirely different story for the people at the surface. Gillion's mind swims with the words he read from his grandfather's tome.
Kissing
This intimate activity is most often engaged with prior to lovemaking (See chapter 5, section 2). As such, it often carries similar social implications, even when no mating activity has yet occurred. Kissing may show intent to redefine the nature of a relationship, to express commitment in an ongoing relationship, or even breach fidelity when conducted outside of an established relationship.
The diagrams on the following pages illustrate various kissing techniques and the context in which...
It wasn't what Gillion wanted to express at all, and yet that's what Chip believes, and what Chip is asking him for. He intended to apologize much earlier, but never found the opportunity to do so. Or rather, he never found a way to express his actual feelings.
After learning more about what divorce actually meant (thanks to chapter 4, section 5) Gillion was more than happy to assist. His biggest concern was assuaged when Chip explained that there were no eggs waiting to hatch or children waiting to be born. He voted as a co-captain to set sail for Loffinlot, he offered Pretzel's assistance as Chip prepared the letter, and was ready to provide the folder he organized that contained official copies of all the legal documents. It was safely stowed in the briefcase, being one of the only objects that would normally belong in a briefcase to begin with. He was ready to help Chip regain freedom as a pirate on the open seas, especially after hearing a convincing argument for why Chip didn't want to pay taxes. It would be one less contract binding them.
Chip would also have the freedom to pursue the relationships he really wanted, and Gillion finds himself feeling giddy about that too. The process is nowhere near finished, but he already finds himself loosening the grip on his thoughts. He wants to be Chip's closest companion, his partner. He daydreams about swimming together, watching sunlight pass through the water and dance on Chip's skin. He imagines Chip breathing with unrealistic ease, and taking Chip to all the beautiful places underseas that a human has never seen. He still wants to kiss Chip, just... Not like that. But if not like that, then what? Gillion knows it's a different feeling than what he felt before, but it's not quite like the customs in the book either. Honestly, it was hard to read some of those sections. He could only withstand descriptions of his grandfather's more intimate escapades by assuring himself it was academic. (Gillion accidentally spit out the water he was drinking when he first got to that part, but Finn had wisely made the book waterproof.)
Confused feelings aside, Chip is still technically married right now. "Not yet," Gillion says.
"Oh yeah, speaking of which," Chip says, lifting his hand from Gillion's and wiping it dry on his shirt. He reaches inside his pocket for the crumpled letter from earlier. "This is what I've got so far." He smooths it out and holds it in front of Gillion to read, carefully keeping it dry.
A bit futile, given that Gillion is using one finger to follow the shaky lines of text, leaving a trail of drips. The ink is dry enough that it doesn't bleed too badly, but this draft will really need to be rewritten now.
The letter makes enough sense and seems to cover all the bases, but the precise wording is bordering on impenetrable. "Seems good. What do you think, Pretzel?" Gillion asks after struggling to parse the exact details. She was watching and helping Chip write this the whole time, so there's no additional feedback besides what she expressed just before Chip was interrupted by Jay.
"Come get your grub before we eat it ourselves!" Earl yells from below deck.
From the catch, each of them got one whole fried fish. Jay and Ollie pick through their fish carefully to remove the bones. It's been served along with fried potatoes, cut into wedges with the skin still on.
"I like it more when it's coated with batter and not... staring at me," Chip complains, looking at the fish on his plate. He breaks off a piece and stuffs it into Pretzel's flask, and she eagerly accepts the reward.
"If you want batter, you should pick the weevils out of the flour yourself!" Earl says. "Unless you like having a little extra protein, heh heh."
Gillion picks up his fish and gleefully bites into it head first with a loud crunch.