FICKLE-HEARTED!

Was there anything he didn’t want them to look out for? Jax thought that was the more appropriate question. Every step of the journey to the Jewels of Destiny was uncharted territory. Jax didn’t know what exactly he needed the crew to look for or what they should be concerned about if they came across it. “Just keep your eyes open. If there’s anything that gives you a weird feeling, let me know. I don’t want us walking into another trap. I’ve been bit by enough,” he dropped his voice, rolling his eyes right before the bartender approached them, “mythical creatures.”

He ordered his own drink and waited for Tripp to do the same. Once the barkeep had walked away, Jax bit his lip. What did he think the Jewel would do? He had his own theories, though he wasn’t positive they were right. Drumming his fingers on the countertop, Jax finally spoke, “I think it holds memories. Athena…I made her come into town with me the other day. We were in a tavern, and all of the sudden she dropped her drink and went all…hazy. She remembered something, but not from her own memories.”

            Anything that gave him a weird feeling. Well, Tripp wasn’t sure whether he wanted to end up with a list full of weird feelings, or come up empty-handed. The former would certainly bring them closer to their goals, much faster, but then --- there were always consequences, and the last few times there had been consequences, Tripp hadn’t been entirely sure he liked them. Luna island, the sea serpents… 

                                       “Maybe they just think you’re tasty?”

“I know how much fabric things need,” he said with a shrug. He’d been a very, very quick study and he had become skilled at guessing at the necessary material. “I’ll measure for the actual measurements of it, you know his tummy and his legs, but this is plenty of fabric. I’ll probably have some left over.” Cyrus laughed at Tripp’s antics with a fond smile. “‘Yet’ being the operative word? Which are more likely to be upset, the husbands or the wives?” 

“That’s not really an answer, but I do hope you’re well,” he replied, adjusting his parcel in his arms. “Maeve? He’s spoken to me about her too and I hope she’s forthcoming. This town feels odd. Off, somehow. I hope he gets whatever he needs from her quickly so we can go about our business; at least the sea serpent was direct with its dislike of us.” He smiled amiably at a passerby who cast them a dark, suspicious look. “I half wish they’d just try to attack us and leave off with all the glaring.”

            His mind was half on the explanation Cyrus gave, and half on the imagery he was conjuring up within his mind of the goat in a shirt made particularly for himself. “You could make Vincent a tie to go with it, with the leftover fabric,” Tripp suggested cheekily. “Or Magni, so they can match!” It seemed like a splendid idea in his mind. 

            Puckering his lips, serious consideration followed the question. “The husbands, really. The potential consequences with other men are far less… Dire.” He shrugged. He’d thought about it, that he might have left something more than just a memory behind in a port or two, but then, they’d all known what they’d gotten themselves into, sleeping with a ‘sailor’.

“It is poor—properly pitiful wee thing, thanks to you and your unrelenting antics,” Thadd pouted, their lower lip jutting out a tad bit. Shifting to where their chin was now resting in both palms, they shot Tripp a pointed look. “Does it look like I’m crying over the accusation?” His question warranted a shrug of their shoulders. They were hardly an expert on pirate living, even now. “Some of them, maybe, but that’s still lonely and just downright depressing.” They grabbed their bottle of rum and took another long swig, wiping away the excess with their sleeve. “I wouldn’t expect you to have common sense, but that’s refreshing to hear.”

“Oh, the people of my island knew that well. Most people were fleeing desperate situations. If the wrong people came to the island they likely would have been dragged back to wherever they came.” That’s why her grandfather and grandmother had settled on the island. Her grandfather had fled a plantation while for her grandmother it was after to be away from people because of her magic. Athena might not have ever met her grandmother but she heard that she practiced magic frequently despite the obvious dangers. “I was thinking something floral. I love some of the textiles I’ve seen on women’s dresses. You know, the women fresh off the boat from Europe? I would love something like that.” She shot Tripp a smirk. “Polka dots? Why are those your favorite?”

            “That sounds terrible.” He didn’t know the finer details of the cruelties of men, only knew of what had reached their colony way back and what he’d picked up traveling around, and that had terrified him so much he’d briefly considered returning to the colony. Humans had been cruel to mers, definitely, but they were also cruel to their own kind, and somehow, in Tripp’s eyes, that seemed even worse. “They wear whole gardens on their skirts,” Tripp nodded, smiling. Some were flowers he’d never seen before --- he supposed they were native to Europe. The mer lifted a shoulder. “There’s somethin’ comfortin’ about… Regularity, nay? But I think flowers would suit you well, Athena.” He winked.

Athena nodded. “I can understand being wary of strangers. Again, back home no one liked it when people outside of the community came to the island, even when they brought important goods to sell and trade.” Her life now was so different than back then. She had since worked on dozens of trading vessels and met more people than there were on her entire island. “I find it much too cold here,” she told him. “I think I’ll have to buy a scarf if we stay here much longer. Which it sounds like we will.”

               “You never know what they will bring besides goods and trade.” War, death. His people had suffered for trusting humans too easily, and while Tripp had met more than his fair share of good people, especially aboard the Cursed Serpent, he’d also run into people who weren’t nearly as kind. Who had made him understand why merfolk kept so quiet, usually, about their true nature. “A scarf sounds smart. I’ve never been one to suffer from the cold. Think it’s from bein’ in the riggin’ so much.” As a sea-creature, he was used to a varied amount of icy temperatures. Merfolk seemed made to withstand the cold, in that sense. “What kind of scarf will you be lookin’ for? Patterns? Dots, I hope. I like dots.” The grin Tripp shot her was boyish and playful.

“Much to my chagrin,” Thaddeus all but grumbled, accompanied by a roll of their eyes. “Okay, well, your manners are rather muddled in concept, Tripp.” Resting their chin on their hand, they found it rather natural to feign boredom to the point of drowsiness, even in their more mellowed state. “Suit yourself. You’ll be alone forever with that attitude.” The following reply made them laugh a bit. “How kind of you to consider mercy… dull, but kind.”

It seemed that Jax had been right to place his trust in his crew mates. They had delivered exactly what the ship needed - information about the mysterious woman Bradway had written about in his journal. “That’s a good idea. We can pass by a few times in the next day or so, and then I’m going to send Thadd to speak to her…or her partner, directly. They’ve got a good head on their shoulders, and they’re charming when they want to be.” Jax was also pretty confident that, aside from Jasper, Thadd was the least likely out of all of them to get too snappy. When he and Tripp came across another tavern, one that hopefully didn’t sell pisswater ale, he led the way inside. “We’re getting so close. I can’t wait until we can actually use the memory jewel…”

           Tripp pulled a face at the mention of Thaddeus. He wasn’t even close to being intoxicated enough to be able to agree with Jax that they were charming, or had ‘a good head on their shoulders’. Tripp kept quiet, though. “Anythin’ you’ll want us to look out for, captain?” he asked. “She’s the one we’re lookin’ for, ain’t she?” It was mostly a rhetorical question.

          He was glad they’d found their way to a pub, this one with a far less personally offensive name than the last one he’d found himself in. He was sure the ale would be marginally better, too, but perhaps he was a bit biased. 

“If I am going to make a shirt, it is going to be a good shirt,” said Cyrus with overdramatic primness. “Even if it’s a goat shirt.” He couldn’t help but laugh as his ears blushed pink. “I’m sure that’s it, yes. Or maybe I’m just standing too close to you and they’re jealous of the proximity.” He gently elbowed his crew mate as he joked, a bright smile smile affixed to his face. “Have you disrupted any marriages while we’ve been here?” he asked, keeping his voice quiet and playful. “Actually, how have you been given the Jewel situation and now this investigation?”

              “Are you not supposed to take his size, then? How will you know you’ve got enough fabric to fit Vincent?” Tripp playfully patted the other’s shoulder. “They’ve got nothin’ to be jealous of. I’m a free man --- a very free man,” the last words he repeated just a little louder, before the mer threw a not-so-subtle look back over his shoulder at the woman. “Not yet,” he said. “Or, well, I’m not entirely sure whether he was married…” They hadn’t done much in the way of talking, that particular male and he, the other night. 

“I can take her,” sure he might have to tap into his strength again but he could take her. She was nothing compared his brother’s he used to fight all the time. “Lach and you tied then?” Alarik asked curiously cocking his head to the side as he thought about this. There was nothing wrong with it at all, he had just been preoccupied with winning and Adeline after he won that he missed that fight. “I need to see a rematch of that next time. I’ll even bet on you, mate.”

                  “Unless she stops playing fair.” They were pirates, after all. And even if Alarik was much larger and taller, Tripp had the good sense to fear Zehra more. “Aye. We were pretty well-matched, but then he managed to get me down on the floor.” His lip still felt a little tender from where he’d been smacked by the other. “I didn’t think he’d be that strong.” Another something he definitely wondered about. “Next time I won’t be caught off guard, that’s for sure. What do you say, wanna go and see what else this town has to offer?”

Jasper didn’t have an answer for that but he had an idea. “I think its because they are grown. They are a kind of plant.” He explained through bites of his own lunch. Or at least that was how it came across to him. “They do not but you can boil the salt water to get clean, drinkable water. I could make it work if he just let me do it.” A soft sigh escaped him before h smile and blushed at the others words. He was not used to praise, as the doctor pointed out. “The ale, do you like it or not? I do not mind it but I do not drink it as much as the others on the ship.”

             “Really?” To others, it might seem like it made sense, but to someone who’s world had been at the bottom of the sea for at least half of their lives, to learn what was a plant and what wasn’t, where some human inventions came from --- Tripp thought he knew quite a bit about it, enough to pass for human without question, but sometimes there were things like this that came out of nowhere. Luckily, Jasper didn’t seem to think it odd. “I could put in a good word for you --- I dunno how much it’ll do, but two voices is more than one, aye?” More convincing, at least. Tripp pulled a face. “It’s worse than anythin’ I’ve ever tasted, but I guess if you don’t know better… It’s no rum, that’s for sure.”

Thaddeus practically growled at the nickname, although it came across as more of a muddled grumble once more. “The profession doesn’t require us to be brutes in every aspect, last time I checked. Maybe if you had more manners I could actually set you up with someone who sticks around for more than a night or two,” they joked, flashing a typical cocky grin in the rigger’s direction. “Perfectly fine. You act like I’ve never been hit before.” In truth, they had, and in any other instance they might have joked that Tripp hit with the force of their sister, Clara.

Jax crinkled his nose. “Let’s avoid that tavern then. I prefer my ale to be strong and delicious. Not…as you so eloquently put it, pisswater.” Of course, Jax cared more about this woman than he did the drinks….but the drinks were still important! Scratching his beard, Jax gave a little nod. “We’re a bit much too, so maybe we’ll get along. Did the barkeep say anything about the best times to go to the shop? When it’s open? When it’s the least busy?”

“Definitely not, do you know how much work a good shirt takes?” he asked as he wandered to the counter to pay for the fabric. The woman running the counter gave them both odd looks, but money was money and she didn’t give him any grief. “If you can swipe a hat from Ivy, and get it on the goat, and keep it on the goat, please do.” He leaned in closer to his crew mate to speak quietly as he stepped away from the counter, ready to leave. “I’m getting very tired of all the glares and stares from this town.”

               “It’s a shirt for a goat, how good does it have to be?” He gave the woman a wink that seemed to throw her off guard, and triumph lifted his features when she blushed and looked away. “You might have to sow on a few straps, but I’m sure Vincent will appreciate it.” Tripp could almost imagine it, both the look on Ivy’s face as well as the rest of the crew, once they’d see what the two of them had done for Vincent. “Maybe they’re starin’ because you look so fine,” he suggested. “I know that’s what they’re lookin’ at me for.” 

“Well, I suppose most people don’t unless you have to make your own like we did back home. The spice trade didn’t reach us.” That was an understatement. Visitors to the island were rare and frowned upon, even when they brought goods to the island. Athena smiled, “what a gentleman.” She wrapped her arm around Tripp’s and let him lead the way. As they walked she examined the city. “How do you like it here Tripp?” She of course had her own opinions on the town but it was always interesting to hear another perspective. 

           “I was just a kid when I left,” he told her. “I don’t really remember much.” He remembered faces and particular sceneries, but herbs didn’t quite grow under water. Grinning at her, the rigger patted her arm and began leading her through the streets. “It’s not so bad. Smaller than Port Royal, for sure. The people seem more wary, but what else can you expect when a whole lot of strangers appear outta nowhere?” He lifted a shoulder. “It is what it is, aye?”

“That I can agree with,” Jasper said taking a bite of his own small meat pie, thinking of the looks he had gotten with Magni the other day when walking. “Mmm,” he muttered swallowing the bite and nodding his head, “it is a small green herb that goes well with fish and other dishes. I can get some and even grow it on the ship if you want. It would not be hard to do.” He had been wanting to grow a few things if Jax would let him for a while now… “No I am not but your words are kind, Tripp. Have you been enjoying this time on port?”

             “Why d’ya think so many herbs are green?” he suddenly asked, the question more of a thought said out loud than a question that truly required an answer. “Would be tough to grow ‘em on board, though --- with water supplies, and such. Plants don’t do well with salt water, I don’t think.” Neither did humans. He didn’t have such a big problem with it, but that was quite hard to explain. “Come on now, Jasper, no need to be humble. Suppose you could say this place ain’t bad. Besides the ale, that is. You?”

Already a few drinks in, Thaddeus was in more of a docile mood when it came to Tripp. Of course, the food only helped to serve as an additional distraction from their usual spats with him… well, for the most part. “If it’s so good, you think you’d be savoring the flavors a bit more by keeping your mouth closed,” they pointed out before stealing a bite of their own. “But I will admit—you have good taste in food.”

Arm wrapped around Tripp, the carpenter smiled and chuckled. Perhaps he was running a bit on pure adrenaline still left over or the fact he had rum in him who knew. “Oh would you?” Another laugh escaped him at the thought. She had been a worthy opponent that was for sure. “You did well as well. How did you do it? How did yeah win?”

              “‘Course,” Tripp said. “We both saw the look on her face after she lost --- she’ll want a rematch at some point.” And he had a feeling that she wouldn’t lose so quickly, this time around. Shaking his head, Tripp sighed. “I didn’t win --- we kinda ended up wrestlin’ and Lachlan got me on the mouth. It wasn’t bad or anythin’, but it’s all for fun, ain’t it? No need to drag it out. He managed for longer than I thought he would, though --- that was somethin’...”