Chapter 56
Previously: The Rose of Whitby – Chapter 55
Arthur feels his eyes widen, and a slither of unease in his stomach- challenging an adult man is such a really, really bad idea. But… but they’re still in the dreamscape, and it’s still a game, and Dr Seward played along so far, so… he’s probably just playing? Which means… which means it should be okay if he talks back? John made him the captain, if Dr Seward really didn’t like that, he wouldn’t have agreed to participate… right?
Arthur makes himself straighten up, and look at Dr Seward, even though he wants to duck his head, and say: “Well, right now, your only options are agreeing with my orders, or following a compulsion and getting eaten by sirens. Unless you have a third suggestion?”
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“Have you considered that there appears to be only one voice? Have you examined the situation enough or have you jumped to a conclusion based on assumptions?” Jack still holds his decided position and steady gaze, but there is a smile on his face. He remembers doing this with rose petal, too.
That makes Arthur pause, because… “…I guess I’m making some assumptions- well, two, that it’s a siren and that sirens are dangerous. Even if it’s just one?”
“Yes, and you have some basis for that assumption, but it is only anecdotal. What would be a more logical form of inquiry and action? You are an explorer, aren’t you?” Now Jack is starting to enjoy this. He knows his rose petal tried to make him interact more with Arthur and he knows who Arthur’s father is, his hypothesis is that Darcy is trying to get Arthur some time with a good father figure, and he refuses to let his rose petal down.
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Arthur isn’t quite sure what’s happening, but… Dr Seward asks interesting questions, at least? “I suppose a cautious approach and direct observation would give us the best information for the least risk, as long as we have the compulsion neutralized and are ready and able to defend ourselves?”
Nodding to that, Jack reaches a hand out towards John. “Now I’m convinced you are competent.” Accepting the offered ear plugs, as well as the raised eyebrow, with a chuckle but no sense of discomfort, he turns back to Arthur. “Then make your decision, captain, what is our course?”
Arthur feels a swell of an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling at Dr Seward saying he believes in his competence now. “We’ll approach at a slight angle, until we can see what the situation is with the spyglass. Oh, and we’ll keep our weapons ready in case of an ambush.” Arthur looks to John, as the navigator, if that works- also, he’s glad this is a dreamscape sailing ship, he doesn’t know much about sailing but he knows on a real ship, they’d need a lot more people to handle going anywhere, never mind adjusting a course.
“I may know a thing or two about manning the weapons.” Jack declares and walks ahead to the cannons while John springs into action to adjust the course, with just him in the rigging and still managing to change sails, before climbing all the way up to the crow’s nest.
Arthur finds himself grinning as he sails the ship not quite to the source of the song- which is really nice to listen to if you’re not compelled by it. He thinks he can appreciate it better for itself that way. And feeling the ship move under his feet, and the sea breeze in his face, and the sun- it’s really nice. A bit like riding. He’ll really have to ask John more about how he makes his dreamscape do all that so well at some point.
They soon arrive in a maze of tall rocks jutting out of the ocean. The sun is beginning to set, throws everything into stark shadows and red glitter where the light bounces off the waves. The voice is still singing, but now that they are close, the song changes, the melodies and rhythms become simpler, and Arthur realises he knows some of these. They are nursery rhymes, he’s heard children sing these even in his part of town.
He makes sure not to get the ship too close to the rocks- sailing between them doesn’t look like a good idea unless it’s an emergency. He tilts his head up to look at how John is doing, doesn’t want to call out now that they’re closer- he remembers how the sound carried across the water when they were on the police boat. Probably the siren knows they are here, a big sailing ship is easy to see on an ocean, after all, but still. Also, he wonders about those songs- does the siren have children, maybe?
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Up in the crow’s nest, John looks all around with his spy glass, chuckling to himself up here where nobody can hear him, just waiting for his scheduled abduction. Ah, there she is. Closing his eyes, he checks how the image is from below and decides this isn’t dramatic enough. So he makes the siren twice her current size, which leads to her feathered wings smattering sound between the rocks, moments before she becomes visible and John shouts a warning.
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“Dammit!” Arthur curses as he sees the approaching form- yes, like the sirens in the Odyssey, with a bird’s body and a woman’s head. For just a moment, he forgets that they’re just playing, feels that dread of all preparations and caution not having been enough- then he remembers that anything that happens is on purpose, and it’s fine. Still- maybe he should’ve been a pistol-wielding pirate captain, not a sword-wielding one, because that sure would be more useful now. But maybe less fun for their adventure plot. He whips his head around to see if Dr Seward heard the warning, if he has a pistol or something of the sort ready.
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Jack had one of the knives in his sleeve ready at the first sound, but despite knowing this is a game, he can’t bring himself to throw even close to target, or not to snicker. He is sure that all those very sharp teeth revealed in the grin should be terrifying, but he’s too aware that Lucy must have a very hard time not to be giggling up there as she closes her claws around John’s arms to swoop him away with a cackled (yes, definitely cackled, not squealed, my rose, you are bad at this) “Bring me my man and you may see yours again… sweethearts.”
Flailing for effect, John still snorts and smacks at Lucy’s feet. “Oi, character.”
~~~~
As he recognizes her face and voice, all Arthur can think is: Oh, that’s where the plot is going and why we oughtn’t avoid her. But, right, if he’s in character he should be worried and also only have limited information, so he yells after her: “Who’s your man, then?”
The siren only answers with laughter, but Dr Seward walks back, adjusting his sleeves. “I am afraid I can enlighten you on that front. That would be our yet missing master gunner. He must have been late to go home to her again and is hiding in the tavern from a talking-to.”
“…He seems like a busy man for someone who gets drunk in taverns,” Arthur can’t help but quip with a chuckle- all roads here lead to Art, apparently. “Then let’s hope we can find our way there without our navigator.”
“A competent captain such as you will surely prevail,” Jack encourages him and picks up the spyglass that miraculously survived its fall from the crow’s nest.
“Thank you,” Arthur says, and tries not to sound too surprised. Then he goes on to figure out what would take them back on their original course- they didn’t go too far off, and it’s all a question of angles, isn’t it?
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Leaning against the railing next to the helm and taking a look at the map as well, Jack compares their surroundings to the description but holds off on advising. He’s long learned that it is counterproductive to give a child input before they tried their own approach, and if rose petal wants him to play papa as well as ship’s doctor, he doesn’t mind that at all. Especially because it seems that Mr. Cobb is nowhere to be seen on this voyage.
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Actually, figuring out where they are in relation to their previous course and how to get back to it… is surprisingly fun. Since he knows what angle they took away from it and how long they sailed that way, he can get at least a decent estimate of the deviation, though: “…Do you suppose I need to account for the curvature of the earth?” he wonders. “That would make calculations a good bit more complicated, wouldn’t it?”
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Staying in character, Jack takes a moment to formulate rather than telling Arthur that he’s aware how much John prides himself on the realism of his dreamscape. “I have heard that our navigator is very accurate in his measures, it would be prudent to at least try to account for the curvature.”
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Arthur smiles a little at Dr Seward for managing such a smooth way of letting him know that yes, there’s a curvature here, and nods. “We haven’t gone a terribly long way, so the deviation shouldn’t be too large…” After some sketching and calculating, he offers what he thinks is their final course for Dr Seward’s inspection. “I think this should do it. If we continue from here with about 1.6 degrees back towards our original course, we should arrive at our original destination.”
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This is only a game, but Jack’s eyebrows still rise a bit as he checks over the math. Arthur is indeed as diligent as his rose petal has lauded him for, so he nods. “Those are some fine calculations, Captain. We should be safe to follow that course. We can also correct as we go if necessary. I’m no navigator, but let me implement your plan for you.”
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Again, Arthur feels that very pleasant feeling at Dr Seward’s approval- it’s nice to have it confirmed that he did a good job. “Off we go to find your friend, then! Um… though how is he going to be our master gunner if he’s with his siren wife? …I suppose we’ll figure it out once we’ve found him and have our navigator back,” he decides. That’s how it goes in stories, something will present itself.
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A smirk tugs at Jack’s lips, he has a suspicion, but he shall let himself be surprised and instead goes to work on the rigging, well, pretends he is because he never was in the navy and has no idea how to adjust any of this. The sails still obey and he suspects they are following a list of commands set beforehand by John.
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Arthur, meanwhile, wonders why Lucy is playing a siren, of all things, while they sail. It’s appropriately nautical, of course, but this is more a modern, tropical pirate story than an ancient Greek Mediterranean heroic quest. Wouldn’t a mermaid have been more topical? Not that he minds either way.
Having climbed up to the crow’s nest, Jack calls down. “Captain, adjust course slightly to starboard. I can see the island but we may have to anchor a ways off, there appears to be some kind of pirate meeting going. The harbour is completely full.”
Arthur adjusts the course as directed- oh dear, a pirate meeting and it’s just him and Dr Seward, no John and no Darcy… He reminds himself once again that it’s a game, so it’ll be fine, while he steers them close enough to row the rest of the way.
Should he leave the treasure map on the ship or take with him, he wonders. Which one is safer? On the ship, no one can steal it from him, but the ship will be empty, so what if someone steals it? Well, empty except for Gregory, who, come to think of it, he hasn’t seen since John sent him downstairs… Oh well. He’s sure he’ll show up if he feels like it. Maybe he’s exploring the ship instead. In the end, he decides to keep the map with him- tucked safely into the inside of his clothes, not just in his pocket where someone could lift it.
“Ready to go into the lion’s den?” Jack asks as they let the row boat down. “I expect our master gunner to be in the thick of it.”
Arthur surveys all the ships crowding into the harbour. “I do wonder what they’re all here for, so yes- maybe we can pick up some interesting information along the way, too.”
Chuckling, Jack quips that he wouldn’t be surprised if they’re all there because Art’s conquests ganged up on him and have come for retribution. “We shall see if this turns into a rescue mission.”
Arthur… almost makes a quip, stops himself, then considers… he’s playing a pirate captain, surely he can quip? So he decides to say what came to mind, after all: “In that case, maybe we should’ve brought his flying siren wife along.”
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“For all I know, she sent us because she can’t get through all these cannon-happy pirates.” Taking up the oars, Jack hums to give himself a rhythm for the task, and takes a look at all the different ships. It is rather obvious to him that John must have grown up in a harbour town.
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“Good point,” Arthur concedes, because that is a lot of cannons, all things considered. They look a lot more intimidating ‘in person’ than you imagine them in books, he thinks.
Once they have tied the boat to a pier, Dr Seward leads the way along the harbour. There are people around, but Arthur thinks it’s less busy than it should be, especially with this many ships in port. The reason for that becomes apparent when they arrive at the tavern- it is full to bursting, people crowded in so close that all Arthur can see are backs and scruffy sailor hair.
Rough wooden tables are shoved along the wall, all packed with people on stools nursing mugs and tankards and craning their necks towards one corner of the room. Arthur can even see people sitting on the stairs leading up to the first floor over the heads and shoulders of the people standing in every bit of open space.
Despite this many sailors drinking in one tavern, it is uncharacteristically quiet. There’s just one voice, emphatically telling a story about some kind of wild chase with a sea monster, or something. With some inching around and peering between people and eventually a hop up onto a window sill, Arthur can see that there’s that one corner that everyone in the room is oriented towards and is free. In that corner, what has to be a pirate captain is sitting on a stool- he has the eye patch and the hat and the gold jewellery and thick, curly black hair and beard and everything.
Across from him, on a floor pillow decorated with doves carrying rubies, lies a very familiar red wolf, with her ears tilted in curiosity as she listens to the story. And a little further stretching himself up and leaning sideways a bit to see past the crowd from Arthur reveals Lord Godalming- uh, Art (as he’s insisted Arthur should call him,) on a stool behind the wolf, looking very loose-limbed and resting against the wall with his head and shoulder- drunk as predicted.
The story progresses to the sea monster having gotten harpooned, and instead of retreating, now towing the ship over the sea so fast it’s threatening to break apart. The tilt of Darcy’s head looks interested, but not overly enthusiastic. Arthur’s not sure why there is a pirate captain telling wolf-Darcy a story, and looks around for where Dr Seward got to so he can find if he knows.
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This isn’t the first crowd Jack had to sneak his way through to get Art out of a tight spot, it’s starting to feel suspiciously similar to their old military school days, and he is surprised that he believes he might have the faintest bit of nostalgia. At least he thinks that vague feeling that isn’t really good but also not really bad is nostalgia. Damned if he could ever reliably identify any emotion that isn’t very strong. In either case, the old drunkard, of course, got himself stuck in the middle of a room of dangerous men, again.
At least their daughter is there to protect him. Now that was a fascinating thought but no, his rose petal is in obvious control of the situation, and this is a story told by a man clearly in love with her, so no, he suspects that it’s not Art’s big form shielding Darcy, but her making sure he doesn’t get any worse.
Finally having made his way to Art’s side, he takes his spot in Art’s shadow, where he’s always been in social situations, and relies on how invisible Art makes him be. Nobody pays attention to the smaller, learned-looking man next to the obvious noble. So he leans in and starts whispering to find out what the setup is and finds himself smirking worse and worse.
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On first glance, Arthur can’t see Dr Seward anywhere- until he looks back to the story telling in progress, and sees him ease up to Lord, uh, Art in a very practised and subtle way. Arthur’s a little impressed- Dr Seward’s as good as any pickpocket he’s ever seen at that. Arthur decides to stay on his window sill for now, because at least from here he can see the room and what’s happening.
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The story in front of Darcy draws to a conclusion, an epic fight between the pirate ship and the sea serpent and a presented peg leg, lost to the great monster.
Turning towards her daddy, Darcy barks a few times, wiggles her paws at him meaningfully and he groans, holds the jug to his forehead and tells the captain that she thinks he was mean to the poor monster. Why would the princess of monsters want to work with a man like him? Nope, next!
To uproarious booing and hollering from the crowd, the captain slinks away from his spot, but Darcy doesn’t pay him any more attention. Her papa is here! Bouncing to her paws, she rubs her wolf snout against his leg, gets a smirk and whispered gentle rebuke for getting attention to him like that, but at her tugging tail in contrition, he pats her head, the harsh way she loves! So it’s all fine! How is the story going from here? She turns in a circle to see who else is here.
Oh, on the window sill there. She totally had overlooked Arthur in the back, his scent masked by so many older men, but her papa is using the general chaos of people rushing to refill their beers and the captains haggling over who goes next to weave through the crowd as if he was suddenly nothing more than ink, following the natural channels between people and she’s very proud of him for being so good when she knows he’s not fond of people either.
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Leaning against the window as if he had been there all along, Jack smirks at Arthur. “You know Darcy too well to make a mistake like that in the story you pick, won’t you? To us it is obvious that she wouldn’t pick that captain.”
Arthur gives him a bit of a wide-eyed look. “Story I pick? But, uh… I don’t know any stories? I mean, except the ones I read in books, but none of those would work, because of, well… exactly that…”
“Captain, this is a storytelling contest and the great beast over there insists on it being fair. I won’t be able to win this one for you.” Then Jack winks conspiratorially. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t be an asset. I’ve had a fight or fifty with wrestling that beast into bed with a good fairy tale.”
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Uh… fairy tales? Not exactly Arthur’s strong suit, either… Also, they don’t usually end well for the monster- all he can think of is how Little Red Riding Hood ends for the wolf, and grimace. Though, huh… wolves and hunters… maybe… maybe he can do something with that? He tilts his head, bites his lip. But… telling a story in front of all of these people? With all that attention on him? The thought makes him wince.
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Seeing the wince, Jack tilts his head. His mind tells him he understands Arthur, his heart is quiet, but that’s nothing unusual. He’s not Art, empathy is not his strong point, at least not without rationalising his way there. But he’s been charged with being a good father figure for Arthur, so he does what he would for his rose petal, encourage. “Arthur. Eyes on the prize. You aren’t talking to the room, you are talking to your… friend. She’ll listen to you, she’ll love it. That’s what counts, making her happy with your words. The others don’t matter.”
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That makes Arthur give Dr Seward an astonished look- how did he know that that’s what he was thinking? And also… why would he say such nice things to him? It makes him blush, but, well, maybe it’s because, right, this is a game for his birthday, and these aren’t real people, they’re just illusions, so… so yes, it’s about him telling Darcy a story, then, and not about the people who are only dream people. So… so maybe he can do this…
“Okay,” he says, with a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll… give it a try. Um…” He looks at the busy room, and the captains arguing over the other way, and Darcy looking his way, and… okay, here goes nothing. He hops off of the window sill, and raises his hand, and calls: “I’ll go next!”
He’s greeted with shouts of protest, only for those to be drowned out by Darcy howling and barking loud enough to make the walls vibrate. Then she pushes herself through the crowd, fur bristled up and growling for space. Once she’s at Arthur’s side, she wags her tail, then pushes him with her snout towards her corner. Settling back on her pillow, she barks once and Art translates that with a chuckled: “Your turn, laddie.”
“Alright.” Arthur takes a seat on the stool, shifts nervously, rubs his hands on his thighs, then reminds himself that the only real people here are Darcy and Art and Dr Seward, so even if he messes up, it’ll be okay. And Darcy’s big, fluffy wolf bulk is reassuring. “So, um, once upon a time, there was a girl…” How did this go again? Well, he’ll just have to improvise… “She had a red cloak that she loved very much and wore everywhere, so everyone called her Little Red Riding Hood. And her grandmother lived in the forest by herself, so Little Red Riding Hood would bring her food from the village. And everyone always warned her to be careful and look out for the wolf.”