He'd always been Hal's friend since they were young and Hal had saved him from drowning. Ever since then, Hal had been his best friend - well, only, for most of those years - and vice versa.

Ingvar and the twins had been there too, of course, even before brotherband training. But Stig had always been the one he'd turned to, relied upon - and Stig had always been there, through almost no conscious effort. Because Hal was his friend, and that was what friends did.

So he stood by Hal through all his friend's harebrained schemes that sometimes worked and sometimes didn't, through all the trials of being a kid in Hallasholm, through brotherband training, through their pursuit of Zavac, where they'd all discovered just how dangerous they all were. Stig had been honestly surprised at his friend's capacity for ingenuity in all fields.

He wasn't quite sure how he'd become Hal's first mate. Yes, he'd said as much, but that was mostly to make sure Hal got the credit he deserved for not ramming the Wolfwind. But he hadn't really expected to retain that position once brotherband training started.

And yet, somehow, he had. Somehow, he had stayed as Hal's first mate, with all that it entailed.

"First mate". It was a term that most landworkers - and some sailors - took for granted. To Stig, it was one of the most important jobs on a ship - and he wasn't just saying that to make himself seem more important. That wasn't his way. No, it was important because the first mate was trusted, perhaps not more but differently than the rest of the crew. They were trusted to keep their skirl from doing anything stupid, trusted to keep the crew in line...trusted to do whatever was necessary to preserve the crew. And if the worst should come to pass, they were trusted to take care of the crew, and of the ship.

In the end, being Hal's first mate meant being trusted to take his place in looking out for the crew - and the Heron. And that, Stig decided, was the greatest honor he could have.