#vaneglorious

Aha! You say. But he wins the fight with Albinus on Lumberjack Island and doesn't kill him.

Well, I say, look what it cost him to do that. The price of mercy for Albinus (Ranger Crew EP title) was he had to literally rise from the grave, metaphorically (or literally, if you want to lean into the subtle supernatural undertones of the show). It's the conclusion of his opening arc of not being who he is, and instead being who he thinks he's supposed to be. It's why he doesn't take Max away himself but asks Jack to do it, which leads to her recapture and further abuse (because Jack is unable to stop the crew where Charles may well have been able to), it's why he goes to the man who owned and abused him to beg his help and offer him payment rather than killing him outright and convincing the men there to follow him out of respect.

Incidentally I think this (never entering a fight without intending to kill or be killed, to win or die) is also why Anne is a similarly unstoppable force. And, though I love him, it's why Jack isn't in the same way, though he's certainly no pushover. Jack would enter a fight with no intention of it ending in death, Charles and Anne simply don't even think of that as a possibility

His ship

His money

His life

I look him in the eye and give him every chance to deny me.

That. Is. Legitimate.

He had never been a deep sleeper. In boyhood he'd learned always to keep one eye open, and as he'd grown that habit had served him well. Ships at sea never sleep, and so neither do their crews, watches dividing the night amongst the men into handfuls of hours at different ends of the long dark.

Of course, no watches existed on Nassau's beach, but no man survived life among the tents for as long as Charles had if he slept soundly through the night.

Charles is certain he has never looked so peaceful in sleep as she does now, blonde hair turned to silver in the moonlight. Moonlight which spilled in not through a window, but a slit cut in the canvas of his tent by some unknown fool while he had been off hunting these last few weeks.

He'd never imagined, when this thing between them began, that Eleanor Guthrie would appear from time to time in his tent, and then linger beside him for long enough that she would drift off to sleep. Aside from any of the logical reasons for her not to do that - which neither of them gave much of a shit about either way- he'd never expected she'd want to.

Despite it all, she slept as soundly as she must have in the great house he imagined she was raised in. He can't help but watch her, when he wakes at what would be third dog watch, were he at sea. Her brow, so often furrowed in frustration- which he is not infrequently the source of- is smooth as the sea on a windless night. He smirks in the darkness; even a calm sea can and will grow rough again, and she was no different.

He enjoyed these quiet moments, not least for their rarity - far more often she'd banish him from her bed at the inn with little warning and less warmth.

SHAKING AND CRYING

Okay no maybe my obsession is going too far

....naaaaaah

"--ane! Vane! Are you all right?"

                   He hadn't meant to crash the ship; he simply had no  understanding  of the  steering  mechanism  and often overcompensated. Haytham did not know  what  it meant to let the  ship  guide  itself.  The boy was entirely incapable of  loosening  his  grasp  on the wheel, and so his  steering  was jerky.  Simply put: he was too focused on  controlling  the  vessel  as opposed to  allowing  it to do what was natural for an enormous wooden construct set upon the ocean. So he had rammed it into  reef after reef until it had  given  up  on him and  ceased  to move, tilting upwards and sending  Vane  tumbling into a mast.

Haytham had done his best to help the captain recover, but his knowledge of medicine was  limited, as was the crew's,  and it got to a point where  he  just  paced  the cabin and wrung his hands and prayed that  everything would turn out fine, something that sat poorly with him, being  as   hands-on   as   he   was   in   most   matters.