Chapter Text
True to his word, Olberic had a few men help him clean the tank Therion sat in. While they did, Therion was forced to sit in a wooden tub filled with fresh salt water. The crew nervously flitted around but did as they were told. Olberic instilled a deeper fear than that of the unknown, but only Olberic handled Therion when it came to getting him out of the tank, though this time, Therion was prepared for it and made no sound.
The crew made a line from the cabin to the edge of the boat where someone dumped the dirty water back into the ocean. When the tank was empty, the same person used a rope to grab fresh water that went down the line to dump it back into the tank once it was thoroughly cleaned. Olberic had some of the deck hands clean the wood and glass down until it no longer held the algae before it was filled with water. He grew frustrated when suddenly the buckets stopped coming. They were close to finishing their task and everyone had other things they should have been doing other than caring for the merman.
“Peter, go see what’s taking them so long,” Olberic said, glancing over at Therion, who seemed to be asleep resting his back against the wall and far out of reach of the scholar and everyone else in the room. If he truly was, he couldn’t say, the merman was an enigma at best.
Cyrus was among the line to help with the buckets, smiled a little at Olberic. He was glad to be able to count on someone like the quartermaster. If he was honest, their plan to help Therion would only work with both of them working together. If Erhardt could have been reasoned with. Things would be different, but their captain was certainly more of an enigma than Therion, despite what Olberic seemed to think. Not that Cyrus would say so out loud.
“Sir? Umm…..the cap’n wants a word,” Peter said sheepishly when he returned, not meeting either of their eyes.
Olberic sighed. Of course it was Erhardt. “Come, Cyrus. I might need your help.”
The two left the line, letting the others fill in their spots as buckets started coming again.
“Peter, stay here and help them. When it’s finished, everyone is to go back to their usual duties, Peter stay with Therion until I get back” The boy nodded and ran to help. Olberic clapped Cyrus on the back encouragingly. “Relax, Erhardt will think you’re up to something afoul.”
“Easy for you to say, you can handle Erhardt. I’m afraid I was never good at putting on airs,” Cyrus muttered under his breath.
“Think think of it as a chess game, don’t show your opponent your hands.”
Cyrus hummed, trying to do just as Obleric suggested.
The two sidestepped some of the crew, but Cyrus noted that the ship’s sails were mostly tied up. It was a rather good day for sailing, why did Erhardt not use the wind? Had Olberic used too many men? A nervous prickle started at the nape of his neck.
Erhardt stood at the helm, a hand on a spoke of the wheel. His face showed no emotion as he stood there, watching the waters out at sea. Olberic knew that look. He shook his head and relaxed.
“What’s the trouble, Erhardt?” Olberic asked, a half smile playing on lips.
“Oh come now, Olberic. You know when we took this ship over, you were supposed to call me Captain,” Erhardt laughed a little.
Cyrus relaxed seeing the two banter, putting him at ease. Perhaps the nervous feeling was unwarranted after all. While the ship was a pirate crew, they treated everyone onboard with some decency and Erhardt had entertained Cyrus for far less than to learn about the merfolk.
Olberic laughed with his old friend. “Erhardt, forget the formalities, you know the crew hardly cares for them anyway. So long as the jobs get done and they get paid, they don’t particularly care who is called captain.”
“For pirates, we certainly don’t plunder all that much or strike fear when we get to ports,” Erhardt said, pouting a little at being dismissed.
“Aye, but you don’t exactly want to be like the usual pirate either, Erhardt.” Olberic pointed out. “Your piracy is more about freedom and doing what you believe is morally right, rather than plundering for the sake of it. Why else do you think we have a crew who listens to both of us instead of trying to pit one of us against the other?”
“Could it have to do with our previous Captain Werner?” Erhardt asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
Cyrus shivered at the mention of the previous captain. Werner was the reason Cyrus had been on the ship and taken prisoner. Olberic and Erhardt were the reason he stayed on the ship and wrote the tales from these two. They were different, good-hearted, and yet they couldn’t seem to shake the feeling they needed to be pirates. If things had been different, Cyrus could have seen them be naval officers instead.
“What are you having the men do?” Erhardt asked, bringing Cyrus out of his thoughts.
“Allow me,” Cyrus said as he stepped forward. “Earlier this morning, Olberic and I discovered Therion cou--”
“Therion?” Erhardt looked between them, eyes wide. “You mean it can talk? Fascinating. Do go on, dear, Cyrus.”
Cyrus cleared his throat. “We found the water not quite to his satisfaction and I concur considering the murky water, so we thought to change it out for fresh water. After all, you’ll want a healthy specimen to sell, or?”
Erhardt nodded, his attention on the seas again, but Olberic saw the glint in his eyes. Erhardt was up to something. Did he already know the plans for freeing Therion? No. Peter wouldn’t have told Erhardt anything without talking with Olberic first. Not that Olberic wanted to go against his friend, but if Erhardt was going to be adamant about selling Therion, Olberic could not comply. Erhardt was hard to pin down at times. If anything Olberic would talk him down if he somehow knew. Olberic was just worried Erhardt would take the conspiracy a little too close to heart instead of paying attention to what they morally should have done.
“So to get the highest price, you want to make sure he’s well fed and presentable? I see. If tha--”
“Actually, is there anyone on board who might have apothecary skills?”
Olberic glanced at Cyrus, rather stunned. If it had been anyone else, Erhardt would have put the man in his place.
“Apothecary? I don’t think so….unless you do Olberic?” Erhardt asked. Olberic shook his head. “Hmm….we could stop by the nearest port, but do we really need--”
“Aye. he has scars and wounds. It would devalue the price of him if you think about it, best to have him all healed.”
Olberic gave Cyrus a warning glance. He was trying to oversell the value Therion was to Erhardt. If this kept going, Erhardt would assume something was wrong. Cyrus seemed to ignore the warning as he watched Erhardt.
“Very well. We could use the time stock up on some supplies. But, I want guard duty on the ship at all times. We don’t need Therion stolen from us, or anything else we took from the previous ship.” Erhardt smiled. “Olberic can go with you to get whatever you think Therion needs and the men who aren’t on duty can have a night on shore. They’re getting too restless with Therion on board. Those who can’t keep their mouths shut or have loose lips give them guard duty. I’ll stay on the ship as well.”
“Thank you, I know Therion will appreciate it as well.” Cyrus sighed with relief.
“So how close have you and Therion gotten? Have you gleamed anything new about the merfolk?” Erhardt asked. Both Olberic and Cyrus froze a little.
“Aye. His skin was like ice and he seemed to be cold. I believe the merfolk are cold-blooded and need the warmth the sunlight gives the water in order to stay warm. The port should provide enough sunlight, but I’ll be testing ways to keep the water at a more tolerable temperature for him. They can speak out of the water as well as--”
Erhardt laughed opening. “A-Alright. I get it, you’re learning a lot.”
A few of the crew members glanced at them before going about their duties. Olberic watched Erhardt wondering what exactly that man was thinking. After everything they had been through, the mutiny of the old captain and making sure they both survived long enough to be able to do so, Erhardt was still a mystery.
Heat flamed the scholar’s cheeks lightly. “Yes, it would seem, but still not a lot, honestly.”
“Well, you had better go back to him.”
Cyrus nodded, seeing that as his dismissal. Olberic stayed at Erhardt’s side, watching Cyrus mutter to himself. Erhardt paid Olberic no mind as he ran a hand through his hair and reset their course slightly. He yelled for a few of the sails to be unfurled now that the merman’s tank was cleaned. Seeing both the captain and the quartermaster at the helm seemed to invigorate a few of the crew members who scrambled a bit quicker than usual to get the orders done.
“Erhardt, what are you playing at?” Olberic finally asked, not liking the silent treatment he was getting.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“....Cyrus and Therion. What are you planning?” Olberic kept his eyes on the crew, not wanting another fight.
“Why nothing, Olberic. You always seem to think I have something up my sleeve. I think it’s nice Cyrus has something to do and Therion, well, we’ll see about him. I still plan on selling him,” Erhardt said, smiling playfully at Olberic. “We are still pirates after all.”
Olberic hummed but remained quiet.
Cyrus returned to his cabin, seeing Peter with a fish for Therion, who had yet to be transferred back into the water. Therion looked up from eating but didn’t say a word. Peter, on the other hand, looked a bit sheepish as he leaned back a little.
“I see you’ve made friends with Therion now,” Cyrus said quietly.
“I-It’s not like that. I just heard his stomach growl, sir,” Peter said, earning him a glare from Therion. He got up, wiping his hands on his breeches.
“Quite alright, lad. Therion, if you’re not opposed, shall we put you back in the tank?” Cyrus asked, knowing that he would need Peter’s help to do that since Olberic seemed to have stayed behind with Erhardt.
Therion glanced up, finishing his fish. “Heh, not like I have a choice.”
Peter glanced at Cyrus who only shrugged. Therion was telling the truth. Cyrus pursed his lips but said nothing as Peter picked the merman up and put him back into the clean water. Therion seemed hesitant at first, but relaxed in the water, but a sharp glare reminded Cyrus that clean water and a few niceties were nothing compared to what he was sure the merman had to endure over the years. Still, it wouldn’t do if he got too attached to the man floating in the tank. It would make letting him go a little harder, not that he would keep the poor thing here on the ship.
“What’s your game?” Therion asked, lazily his tail flicked back and forth. Was he contemplating something?
“Be mindful of the water Therion.” Cyrus pointed out as a bit of water sloshed over the side. He heard a tsk, but didn’t look at the merman as he settled at his desk. “As for a game, I have no notion as to what you are referring to.”
“My tank and talking with the big-...Olberic.”
“Ah, well there is no game. I simply wished to make you more comfortable,” Cyrus set out about uncorking an ink bottle,
“Cut the bullshit,” Therion practically growled. “What are you waiting for? You want me to beg for your help? To get me off this ship so that you can just tell your captain so that I get punished or maybe even something crasser? I know how these ships work.”
Cyrus’s shoulders slumped. “Therion. I’ll have you know, that since Erhardt had taken over, things have been different on this ship. He and Olberic both don’t work like--”
“But they want to sell me. So what use is putting me in clean water and trying to bandage me up? No one asked for your help.” Therion sunk into the tank, still glaring at Cyrus when the scholar finally looked up.
“Therion, please. You’re acting like a spoiled child. You don’t really know those people.” Cyrus sighed. “As for not asking for help, you never would have in the first place. I was the same when I was first brought on board.”
Therion just glared, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Cyrus shook his head. Olberic and Erhardt had been there for him in trying times, but he had yet to really talk to anyone else on board. He was far from the same man when he first was aboard the ship.
“I promised Olberic and I would free you and we will. Erhardt is doing what he needs to do to keep the crew from trying to do exactly what he and Olberic had done…..with my help.” Cyrus dipped the quill pen he had and started writing a few things in the log book.
“What did you do?” Therion asked, settling down in the water.
“Why would you care. You will be leaving anyway,” Cyrus asked, his hand never pausing.
“I’m bored.”
Cyrus could head the shrug of Therion’s shoulder in that voice. Of course, he was being nonchalant about it all. Maybe Therion liked to hear stories? Wet hands wouldn’t be advised for the tales he had written so far, so perhaps a verbal account would have to do.
“Fine. But then I must really get back to work.” Cyrus turned his chair to face Therion. Gracefully, he crossed his legs one over the other. “When I first came on the ship, I was under the impression this ship was a merchant ship. It turned out to be a pirate ship and a few of the people along with myself were supposed to be sold into slavery.”
Cyrus held his hand to stop Therion from interrupting.
“This was before Erhardt and Olberic took over. Those two made sure we were all fed and had what we needed to survive. Sadly, there were only two of us left by the time Erhardt and Olberic had successfully killed the former captain. Needing to keep up pretenses, he gave both of us a choice. Stay with the crew and be useful or find ourselves going overboard. Thinking back on it, I assume it was more of a necessity to gain the trust of the crew. I doubt Olberic would have really let Erhardt throw us overboard with nary a thing. Still, the two have been running a tight ship, making sure those who were loyal to the old captain were slowly weeded out until you see the crew now.”
“You’re just a prisoner here then? Some glorified pet that does as your so-called captain says?”
Cyrus shook his head. “Not quite. I have plenty of freedom and Olberic keeps up the pretense by going with me when I need something from the shores. If I wished to get away, I doubt the man would really try and stop me.”
“So you’re not a prisoner? You just pretend to be one?” Therion’s glare returned.
“I suppose? Or perhaps the better way of putting it, I let myself be a prisoner,” Cyrus smiled a little.
“But why? Why would you want to do that?” Therion shut up in the water, clearly angry that the man before didn’t realise that being free was a luxury he never had. Or maybe he did and that was why he was telling Therion all of this. That there would be no comradery in being imprisoned together.
“I…. I haven’t the foggiest notion as to why I’m afraid.” Cyrus shrugged. “I never felt the need to leave. The crew is friendly enough once you get to know them, and the open sea is nice. I don’t have to return to a society that only sees you as being a prick and nothing more than a fountain of information they want to see. At least here I can find the truths I want.”
Therion frowned, the anger simmering down a little. “So you have a different kind of prison, eh?”
Cyrus watched Therion’s face, the emotions rather intriguing. Whatever Therion thought about this answer, it at least seemed to quell the anger for now. Turning back to his paperwork, he dipped the pen back into the ink.
“I suppose I do, but being at sea like this I don’t have to worry about that. Besides, if I had not chosen to stay, we would never have met. And I for one, am glad we did.”
Therion gave a grunt in reply, but settled back into the water, ever watchful.