Chapter Text
"A boy! There's a boy in the water!"
Barbara Swann leaned over the railing of the ship, pointing frantically at the body floating on a section of wooden deck. Around her, the crew of the HMS Dauntless burst into a flurry of action. Shouts of 'man overboard' and 'haul him out' flew around her and suddenly she was pushed out of the way as men rushed in with a boathook. She stumbled for a moment before someone braced her and gently moved her further away. Barbara looked up into the concerned face of her father, sparing a moment to make sure she was well before he joined the men hauling the boy onto the deck. At last, his soaked form was laid laid and she squeezed through the bodies to get a closer look as Lieutenant Norrington checked his vitals.
"He's still breathing," the officer said, and the tension in Barbara's body eased some. She'd spotted him in time.
"Where did he come from?" Her father asked. There hadn't been a hint of any other ships in the thick fog.
"Mary, mother of God.."
Barbara tore her gaze away from the boy at Mr. Gibbs' horrified exclamation and gasped. That had sailed into the aftermath of a disaster. The burning hull of a ship laid before them, cracked completely in two with her cargo leaking out in all directions. For a delirious moment Barbara thought it much like a dropped egg. The fog gave the firelight an eerie glow, as if the ship had been cast out of hell itself. She couldn't begin to imagine what it would've been like to be on board in the moments when the ship broke apart. And the boy had somehow miraculously survived.
She looked back at him while the men around her began discussing a cause for the accident and arranging to look for survivors. He appeared to be unharmed, which would be more of a miracle than even just his survival. Though, waterlogged as he was, it was difficult to discern his true condition. She could barely tell that his hair was blond with how dark it looked from the water. Not sure what to do but feeling as though she had to do something, Barbara pressed her hand to his cheek to judge his temperature. She knew being in the ocean for too long made you cold, and it would be a shame for him to make it through hell only to catch his death. A thin delicate chain hung around his neck, long enough that whatever he kept on it was hidden deep within his shirt. Curious, she started to pull the chain up to investigate.
Suddenly the boy jerked and gasped for air, startling her. His blue eyes looked around wildly as he struggled to sit up. "It's ok, you're aboard the Dauntless. My name is Barbara Swann, I saw you floating in the water. What's your name?" The boy's chest heaved with every breath, but he did seem to relax as she spoke and his eyes eventually settled to look at her. "Ken. Kenneth Turner."
"Barbara!" Both children jumped at the shout and she turned to see her father approaching. Upon seeing that the boy (Kenneth, Barbara reminded herself) was awake, he smiled. "Ah, wonderful, you're awake."
"His name is Kenneth Turner."
Her father kept smiling at them, but Barbara knew when her father was concerned and trying to hide it. "Well, Mr. Turner, I'll be entrusting you to my Barbara's attentive care. I've told the Lieutenant you'll be staying in our cabin for the time being and I've got some of the men looking for fresh clothes so we can get you warm and dry. I'll be helping with the search, so Barbara, dear, can you show him where our cabin is?"
"Yes, Papa," Barbara knew her father was just trying to get them both away from the gruesome scene, but she could hardly blame him. She took Kenneth's hand in her own and helped him stand.
Kenneth looked between the two of them before nodding at her father. "Thank you, sir."
Her father gave them one last look over and then nodded at them before he turned back to help prepare the longboat. Barbara can hardly believe the turn the day had taken, and a tiny part of her soul wonders if she had, in fact, conjured up a pirate attack with her singing. Perhaps Mr. Gibbs was right to be so superstitious. She turned back to her charge and gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Let's get you warmed up." Kenneth nodded and began to follow her, but as they made their way below deck he suddenly stopped, staring out into the distance with wild eyes. "What is it?" Barbara came up next to him, mindful of the sailors weaving around them while trying to do their job. She followed his gaze out into the fog, surprised to see what appeared to be the outline of a ship. A large one, by the look of it. Her heart was racing as the fog thinned enough to make out the black sails and billowing skull and crossbones of of the Jolly Roger.
"I didn't dream it… It was real…" Barbara turned back to Kenneth and saw the fear in his eyes. She grabbed his hand and quickly pulled him away. If something did happen, if that pirate ship was real, then surely the best place to be would be below deck. But it had looked so haunting… Surely it couldn't have been real. But they had both seen it, so it couldn't be a ghost ship. Barbara tried desperately to push it out of her mind. Her father had given her a job to do, and she was determined to do her best taking care of Kenneth Turner.
It had been five days since they'd pulled young Kenneth Turner from the ocean, and Weatherby Swann had already seen the change in his daughter. The two had become thick as thieves within moments of meeting. By the time he had returned to his cabin, he'd caught them giggling and acting as if they'd always known one another. As a father, perhaps he should've been concerned that this unknown boy had made himself so friendly with his daughter. But he couldn't remember the last time Barbara had been so happy. She'd always been a rambunctious child, which unfortunately meant being an outcast among the children of London society. She was so much like her mother it made his heart ache in the best and worst way. His Marianne had always been so full of life in a way many had perceived as odd, and he recalled many times throughout their courtship and marriage where she had confided how alone she felt among the other women in their circle. She had been so afraid when Barbara was born that she would also be a lonely child and made promise after promise that their daughter would never be lonely.
But then Marianne had passed, and Barbara had been so young, and he had thrown himself into his duties and left his young daughter to fend for herself in the hopes that her childhood would be kinder. He was so concerned with providing the life he felt his daughter deserved that he'd neglected to make sure she was happy. He had hoped this new appointment in Port Royal would be a fresh start for them, but it appeared that "start" was occurring early. He'd watched as the two children traded whispered secrets back and forth, certain in their security like all childhood confidants were. He'd watched them run about the deck playing games while dodging sailors left and right. He'd watched his daughter come up to him and proudly declare that she'd like to be called Barbie because Ken had called her that and she'd liked it. His daughter wasn't behaving with the ladylike propriety expected of her, but he found himself not caring much for how she should behave in the face of her bright smiles.
At the moment he stood with Lieutenant Kendrick Norrington, observing the two children as they learned how to tie knots from Mr. Gibbs. The old sailor was one of the other people the lad had taken a shine to, and Weatherby had the feeling it puffed up his ego a bit whenever Kenneth went to him specifically for questions about ships and sailing. Their hair shone golden in the light of the sun as they bowed their heads, focused entirely on their section of rope.
"The boy's report is concerning, but nothing to worry about for now. The proper reports have been taken and once we make port we shall distribute word so that other ships may be on alert in the area." Weatherby came back to their current conversation. Of course, the pirates the boy insisted had sunk the merchant vessel were a serious concern. He had hoped it had been an unfortunate accident with the gunpowder, but the way the boy recalled the sound of canon fire and the terror of his shipmates had dashed those thoughts. He had to admire Kenneth for seemingly overcoming the event so easily, though he suspected having a friend certainly helped in that regard.
"It's a shame for someone so young to experience such horrors," he remarked, though he knew the boy had been through much in his twelve years. Barbara had confided in him that she was worried after Kenneth had revealed he had no living family. It seemed like she was already wondering what would become of her friend once they made port. He had assured her that Kenneth would be fine, and at the time he had been thinking of finding him an apprenticeship or making arrangements with a local family. But he watched his daughter struggle with her knots while Kenneth tied his fourth, prompting a most uncouth moment where Barbara stuck her tongue out at him. He watched as the boy burst into a fit of giggles and helped her untangle her rope and slowly take her through the steps again. He watched their outstretched feet knock into each other every now and then like a little game.
And Weatherby Swann wondered if perhaps the solution was easier than he'd first considered.
Ken leaned against the railing of the ship, staring out at the sunset and rubbing his medallion like a worry stone. This was his last night aboard the Dauntless. Tomorrow, they would arrive at Port Royal, and he was unsure where that left him. All his life, he'd only ever wanted to be near the ocean. It was like it called to him. His mother said it must be in his blood, because his father was also a sailor. She'd looked so sad whenever she spoke of him that Ken had promised he would never leave her, no matter how much he wanted to. But then the illness had taken her and suddenly he had nothing left for him in England. He'd been ashamed of how quickly he'd looked for a ship in need of a cabin boy, but he just felt like he belonged at sea. Perhaps he'd even find his father, or at least whatever happened to him.
But then the ship was attacked, and everything was on fire and exploding all around him, and the next thing he knew he was gasping for air and staring up at a girl with golden ringlets. These days he'd spent aboard the Dauntless had been some of the best in his life thanks to Barbie. He remembered how she'd lit up when he'd called her that for the first time, delighted to have a nickname, and he wondered if her childhood had been just as lonely as his own. He promised to only ever call her Barbie if she called him Ken, and she'd diligently kept her word. But tomorrow they would reach Port Royal, and he wasn't a fool. He was a poor orphan boy and she was the governor's daughter. Mr. Swann had been a very nice man while on the ship, but Ken was sure everything would go back to normal once they reached land. People like the Swanns didn't keep with people like the Turners. Maybe he could find another ship to sign up for, or find a decent apprenticeship until he could make it out to sea again.
The sound of footsteps caught his attention and he looked up to see Barbie approaching, looking worried for him. He smiled instinctively, hoping to ease some of her bad feelings as she joined him at the railing. They stood there in silence for a moment, him worrying his medallion and her fidgeting with her fingers. At last, Barbie turned towards him. "Will you still be my friend when we make port?"
The question caught him off guard. "Of course I will. I'll always be your friend, even if we're apart."
Barbie pouted in a way that made her look younger than him. He'd teased her about it the other day and she'd boxed his ear for it, so he held himself back this time. She had a mean slap. "But it'll be difficult to stay friends if we're apart. What if I want to see you but I can't? Or what if you decide to leave on a ship and never come back?"
Part of Ken was put at ease. It seemed Barbie was just as nervous about the future as he was, just as eager to hold onto him as he was to her. Unfortunately, he didn't have much in the way of comfort to— He had an idea. He looked around to ensure that no one was watching and quickly removed his medallion and held it out to her. "Then you can hold onto this for me."
Barbie stared at him wide-eyed. She knew the history behind it, what it meant to him. "But I can't… Your father gave you that!"
"And now I'm giving it to you," he said, certain in his heart it was the right choice. "If something happens, and we're not able to see each other, you'll have this. And the next time we see each other, you can give it back. Besides," he shrugged, suddenly feeling a little silly. "I bet it's good luck. You found me, after all. So if you keep it, it'll keep us together always."
Barbie glanced at his face, then his hand, then back again before tentatively taking the gold. She held it reverently, stroking it as he often would when he thought no one had been watching. Then she slipped the chain over her head, the medallion hanging low enough that she tucked it into the top of her dress. She looked back up at him, a solemn determination in her eyes. "I'll take good care of it, I promise."
"Ah, there you are!" Ken looked away to see Mr. Swann approaching. "Come you two, we've much to discuss before our arrival tomorrow." Ken shared a look with Barbie before nodding towards her father and standing up straight. "Yes, sir." They followed after Barbie's father, still nervous, but at ease now that they'd made their little pact.
Ken had the feeling that no matter what, he and Barbie would be friends forever.