Alfred was awakened by Toris. Yawning and rubbing away the dots in his eyes, he slowly floated into consciousness. Peering up, he was greeted by too-bright light and his quartermaster's chuckle.

As surroundings began to register, he could hear the muffled voices of his crew outside. Around him the cabin was awash in sunlight, dust particles dancing in the surprising warmth. Thoughts still sluggish, he sat up slowly, once more blinking stars away; he must have been in a really deep sleep. Softly closing his eyes again a pleasant buzz began to spread through his body. He sighed deeply, contentedly, for the first time in what could have been forever and stretched leisurely.

"The sky is clear, we have a strong wind and following sea. Lunch is being prepared as we speak." Toris saluted, posture straight; every bit the professional officer – at least after his soft laughter had trickled away. "Captain," he saluted again and turning on his heel he left for the door. A gust of fresh wind brushed into the room when he opened it, a cool burst in Alfred's nostrils, clearing his mind further.

"Take your time," Toris said from the doorway. "Eska is in fine spirits and will not need to leave the helm for some time still." He smiled, nodded kindly and closed the door behind him.

Three seconds ticked by in silence. Then Alfred groaned and sank, half exasperatedly, back into bed. Toris was happy – Alfred would go so far as to say hoppingly delighted – that his captain had gotten a good night's sleep. The sun told him midday had come and gone, Toris clearly having taken it upon himself to make sure no one disturbed the captain's rest. The helmsman was most likely in cahoots with him as well, ready to guard the helm until the next morning if they deemed it necessary. The maternal instinct was suffocating and annoyed Alfred to no end.

Yet, what was even more infuriating was that little treacherous feeling of bliss seeping through muscle and bone. Rolling over and stretching, Alfred wriggled his fingers and toes. Regardless of the circumstances, he could not deny he felt better than he had in a long time. He was not drowsy from too much sleep and even the lingering ache in his healed gunshot wound appeared to have completely vanished. In short, he felt great.

He lay there for… how long he wasn't entirely sure. Long enough. He had given in without noticing, grabbing the temporary opportunity to nestle, undisturbed, in the harbour of Eska and Toris' protectiveness. Legs and arms sprawled, he starfished in his soft covers. Dosing peacefully his thoughts wandered, tracing the rocking of the ship as they curled with the creaking of wood, the lapping of water, bubbling down into the depth of the cool ocean existing outside. Conjuring memories of distant waters, foreign sunsets and a pair of glinting green eyes.

Arthur.

Alfred's eyes sprung open. His mind was at once crystal clear as he stared at the ceiling. But even as he breathed out, whatever had startled him was already slipping away. All he had was the distinct impression of being underwater. In Arthur's arms. He sat up slowly, fists subconsciously opening and closing in the covers. Then, very, very, very hesitantly, he glanced over at the tank. Arthur lay on his side, his back to Alfred. Another glance. Arthur appeared to be sleeping.

Alfred's eyes lingered. They lingered on the merman's sandy blonde hair softly billowing in the water. They grazed over the pale skin, the lean back. Following as skin melted into shells he admired their shine, dulled yet enhanced by the water and mounted glass.

Alfred shook his head and briskly rubbed his face. No, he would not spoil the late morning. In all probability, it was a lingering moment from a dream forgotten upon waking. Even so, he kept stealing looks at the merman for another few minutes before he managed to force himself to stop.

When he climbed up onto the helm roughly an hour later he was met by Eska, who gave his appearance a quick once-over, evaluating – scrutinizing – him. Automatically Alfred paused in his tracks, awaiting judgement, distractedly wondering if this was going to become a habit of the helmsman's. But then Eska stepped back, relinquishing the helm with what passed for a smile on the stoic man's face. With a calm salute he retreated under deck. Assumedly to sleep. Or so Alfred hoped, momentarily guilt-stricken by the dark traces under Eska's eyes. Grabbing the wheel, Alfred's gaze remained blindly focused on the helmsman's retreating back as he settled into a familiar stance. Water swam into view behind his eyes, little bubbles dancing like he was under the surface and he mused dimly if he was still half asleep.

Alfred twitched. Focus. He needed to obtain some sort of semblance of an ordinary day, despite his late waking. But even as he straightened and scanned the deck to locate his quartermaster, he could not suppress the warm feeling like a silent hum right under his skin. The sky was crystal blue, so clear it gave him a sensation he could see to the end of the world if he tried. By the time he finally found Toris, he had only gotten lost twice to admire the horizon.

Upon his command, the quartermaster prepared the required damp blanket and selected play of the day. James and Aaron emerged on deck with the merman between them. Step by step they made their way up the stairs, firmly gripping each other's wrist and their own, Arthur precariously balanced on a temporary living chair. Their breakfast was served à la Toris and when he looked down at his meal Alfred was reminded it was already lunch time.

"Sorry about breakfast," he said, throwing a crooked smile at Arthur. The merman shrugged, saying nothing as he immersed himself in the play. He picked the fish apart, seemingly thoughtlessly, nibbling distractedly at the pieces and Alfred couldn't help stealing little glances at him once again. He tried to make out what the merman was reading this time, but the script's front was not even remotely facing in his direction. Regardless, Alfred was pretty certain Arthur must have had read it already. At least three times.

He had just licked the last crumbs and bits of food off his plate when Corey appeared over the edge of the tin disc. He took in the sight of the two empty plates and nodded, grunting with satisfaction. Alfred lowered his with a sheepish smile and quickly wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his coat. Corey had the fishnet bag in hand.

"Well then, are you ready?" he looked at Arthur. The merman appeared only slightly less shocked than the day before, yet definitely a lot more collected than Alfred was feeling. But Alfred kept his cool as Corey helped Arthur onto the railing and then over. He did not say anything as Corey briefly leaned across the ship's side to watch the merman dive, before casually saluting the captain and leaving with an almost disturbingly cheerful whistle.

Alfred couldn't decide whether to be furious or give up, just surrendering to the whims of his crew – they all seemed to have simultaneously decided to run his life for him. He supressed a twisted knot of indistinguishable feelings; resolutely deciding to ignore them. Even if he could not.

He noticed several men had paused in their work to watch the events on the helm. With a look he had them scurrying back to work and drew absent amusement from their added sprint if he rested his eyes on any one of them for more than a second. Only a few courageous souls lagged behind, peering almost curiously at the ocean, throwing not-so-subtle glances at Corey.

Just out of reach of the helm's shadow, James, having been previously occupied at the forecastle, caught up with the cook. He gave Corey a little nudge. The broad man stopped – somewhat begrudgingly if the arms crossing was anything to go by. James just smiled. They exchanged a few words and James laughed. Corey shook his head and James shared in the expression, patting his shoulder. Then he winked up at Alfred.

Flinching at having been discovered, Alfred still found it in himself to roll is eyes. James smiled sympathetically which only made Alfred's personal turmoil return with quadrupled force. Inclining his head once James disappeared under deck with Corey, the thud of a door sounding their exit. Alfred breathed deeply through his nose and firmly clamped down on his new jumble of confusing thoughts. He locked them too away, in the back of his mind, where they could join the jumble of other confusing things Alfred already really did not want to think about right now.

Alfred wondered briefly what it would look like if the sky was green. Tipping his head back he inspected the ombré of blue; the light strip lining the horizon, the deep royal hue high above. Deeper than the ocean, the stars like eyes peeking at him. Green eyes. Green like dew soaked grass and fresh leaves. Arthur's eyes.

Alfred's throat made a sound somewhere in the middle of a sigh and a grunt. He smiled wryly at himself.

Far, far over his head, a single cloud floated. Hardly more than a fragile, long band, as though its ambition had been to reach across the entire sky, but had instead been spread too thin, barely visible anymore.

He frowned up at the single, little cloud, as though expecting it to give some answers to questions he didn't dare ask. But of course, it yielded nothing. Be it about grass or merfolk.

Sticking a hand in his right coat pocked he fished out a handheld compass for something to do. Leaning against the wheel he tipped it slightly this way and that, turned it and watched the arrow wobble and spin. Eventually it found north somewhere ahead and off the starboard bow. He repeated the process. Shaking it lightly, he listened to the sound of the loose arrow skipping up and down on its anchoring pin. Just as he had turned it vertically so the arrow was stuck, incapacitated of any movement, the steady motion of men on deck changed. Alfred lowered the compass.

What stood out was a handful of sailors gathered in a small clump by the bulwark, close to the forecastle. Alfred caught a telescope being elongated and raised, and one of them – Aaron by the hair – pointed off into the sea. Alfred automatically followed the motion, much like the other men. For a few moments he saw nothing. Frowning he searched the black-blue water, waiting for his adjusting eyes to discern details. Then there; several yards out, North-East of their own position, a head was bobbing in the waves, coming steadily closer before ducking back under the surface.

Shouts rang out across the deck. The end of a rope was tied with a wide noose and thrown over the rail, several hands gathering to secure it. They waited and then, by a signal out of view to Alfred, they began hauling their willing catch aboard. It took several minutes, but then Arthur was on the deck, brushing hair out of his eyes and observing Corey, who was going through the catch.

Aaron coiled the now whet rope and as he carried the bundle away the rest of the crew began disbanding. Toris issued the final order to get back to work, which Alfred was just barely registered. Corey, instead of going back to his galley, handed the full fishnet bag over to another sailor who carried it away. He crouched down next to Arthur and stayed there. Alfred squinted slightly, straining to catch any important detail. But the cook didn't seem to be doing anything. Alfred wasn't certain if he was surprised or not when he noticed the merman's lips moving. Watching Arthur wait then speak again, Alfred realised the two were holding an actual conversation.

They chatted for a while. About what, Alfred had no idea. Corey was angled mostly with his back toward the helm, but even if he hadn't been they were still too far away for him to successfully read their lips. For a split second he had the impulsive desire to uncap his telescope, but almost immediately discarded the ridiculous idea. Several more long moments, they were still there, talking. Alfred moved his gaze up to the mastheads above and the sky beyond.

When at last he looked back to them, Arthur was on the railing again, though no luggage could be seen with him this time. He was throwing one last glance at Corey before pushing himself off the edge. Alfred didn't notice chewing the inside of his cheek while waiting for the splash that followed, nearly inaudible among the rush of waves. It was not long however before the merman re-emerged. He jumped a tight arc between two dark hilltops. Soon enough he was out again, with a flick of his tail creating a spray of water and a brief rainbow.

Alfred was not the only one distracted by the unexpected display. Several of his men stopped in the middle of their duties to watch before catching themselves and scurrying away. After a little while they would be back and the whole cycle would be repeated over again. But what really got Alfred to stare, a confusing mix of amusement and surprise keeping his eyes locked, was the lack of trepidation and the hesitant awe on their faces as they looked on.

"Quite the commotion."

Alfred glanced to his left, swiftly masking his flinch at having been snuck up on. The Quartermaster climbed the final step to the helm and smiled slightly at the captain when their eyes met. "We might just find you were right all along," he mused as he came to stand side by side with his captain, as they had so many times before.

Alfred only titled his head slightly in question. Toris chuckled.

"I think the idea of the crew and a merman getting along is not such a far-fetched reality after all." He motioned to the crew with a nod and Alfred quirked a brow.

"And you are going to tell me the gracious cook had nothing to do with it?" Alfred asked dryly. Toris whole heartedly laughed this time, a rarity which was always infectious to Alfred.

"Well, he may have decided to take matters into his own hands," Toris said, hands modestly behind his back.

"That's an understatement," Alfred muttered under his breath. But by the quirk in the Quartermaster's lip his words had not gone unheard.

"I believe he simply wanted to speed the development along."

"And they say I am impatient," Alfred grunted.

"Well…" Toris teased good-naturedly. Alfred rolled his eyes and when Toris turned his gaze to the crew he gave the quartermaster a sneaky slightly-more-powerful-than-required nudge with his elbow.

Toris had to catch himself with one flailing hand on the rail not to fall over completely and his head whipped around. He chuckled and straightened. Then nudged Alfred right back. Alfred broke out laughing. He lunged for Toris who jumped out of his reach, Alfred limited by the hand he kept on the wheel. The Quartermaster darted back close, slipping inside Alfred's guard and delivering a few soft jabs to his abdomen. Alfred swiped, missed, endured another successful attack, then finally catching Toris in a one-armed grapple he managed to get out in-between giggles,

"What are we, teenagers in a treehouse?"

"Now that certainly brings back memories," Toris grinned, shaking Alfred off of him. Slowly they settled, the laughter still a tickle on their tongues, but visually calm to the outside eye. Together they observed the crew on deck, finding entertainment in the increasing number of men distracted.

"It would seem Corey may have been successful in reminding the men of the fascinating and beautiful side of the merfolk," Toris said.

"I suppose I should have realised that was his intention?" Alfred asked, still catching his breath slightly.

"Well, you are Captain Alfred F. Jones, the great," was the reply which warranted Toris another sneaky nudge to the ribs. He slapped Alfred away playfully, returning his attention to the crew.

"We might reach the goal sooner than we had thought."

Alfred smile absently, suddenly enjoying the wind filling the sails and ruffling their hair. "…So it would seem," he said eventually, sounding almost puzzled in his own ears.

"Besides," Toris tilted his head slightly. "Arthur returned, didn't he? Twice." He caught Alfred's eyes, holding his gaze. Then he offered a soft smile, nodded, and left Alfred to be alone to brew over the last comment.

Night rolled out across the ocean, the winds growing cooler until Alfred buttoned up his coat. He watched Toris on the main deck, weaving between sailors. Arthur was back on-board and the guard shift had just been signalled, so the ship was for the duration of about seven minutes, at its busiest. Toris was joined by Aaron; his replacement already making himself comfortable in the crow's nest. The look-out's feet hit the deck and without breaking stride in the least, Aaron matched Toris' pace and the two talked as they made their way to the helm.

The quartermaster headed up first, taking up position next to Alfred. "Eska is on his way," he said. Aaron had ended up stopping halfway up and was sitting with Arthur. At that Toris gave Alfred a small, sidewise smile which he did his best not to see. "I believe Adrian is waking him as we speak." Alfred nodded. This meant he had the best part of half an hour before he was relieved from his post.

Apparently, Toris and Eska was still of the impression Alfred was in need of foster parents; Toris' words were informative but held an undertone of this not being up for negotiation. Alfred briefly evaluated the consequences of reminding the Quartermaster of their very different statuses on-board what just so happened to be Captain Alfred's ship. He decided against it. His father had early on taught him the importance of knowing to pick one's battles. Whilst Alfred usually impulsively ignored this, he came to the conclusion that it was truly just best to leave this specific disagreement be. He simply nodded in acknowledgement, though did add a tiny, pointed sigh. He was certain he could hear Toris smile.

"Aaron and I am here to assist with Arthur for the night, should you require it," Toris moved on. Alfred was about to accept the offer – the whole thing really just a useless formality –, but when he opened his mouth it was not his voice that emerged.

"That will not be necessary."

Toris' eyebrows did not move. Honestly, that man would be a great gambler if he ever decided to partake in such activities. Alfred's on the other hand did. They were getting closely acquainted with his hair roots, and look-out, quartermaster and captain looked at the merman, done in such perfect unison – the back of his mind kindly observed – Alfred could have laughed.

What at last came from his mouth was a single "oh".

He blinked and made a second attempt. "Oh. Well… very well. Then. You may depart," he said it more as a question than even a meek request, looking to Toris with owlish eyes. The quartermaster however just inclined his head, wished them both a good night, saluted and left, Aaron trailing behind. Leaving Alfred to work through his confusion by himself.

Within the next few minutes the main deck was nearly completely drained of life, the chatter of men dying down until peace settled. Leaning against the wheel, Alfred peered up at the skies, tracking the stars as they peaked into existence, his lips slightly puckered with a frown. Really, he mused, he shouldn't be surprised by anything from Arthur anymore. If there was one thing he should have learnt by now, it was that the merman's whims were as predictable as the ocean itself. Alfred closed his eyes. Night winds, as gentle as the seas would allow, tousled his hair. Slowly he turned to review the day's event, hesitantly letting them play in the void behind his eyelids. To say he was confused would barely even be the beginning of it. He inhaled the crisp air, holding it as he opened his eyes. Above him dozens more stars had appeared and he gazed up at that bottomless dome.

"Say, do you regret it?"

Arthur didn't even look up from his play. "Regret what?"

"Do you regret saying you would stay?"

As Alfred slowly pulled his gaze from the stars, their eyes met. "If you want to go home, you can." There was only the faintest twinge in the depth of Alfred's gut and even that felt more like an echo. It puzzled him and stupidly he reached for it, almost feeling a bit off kilter at the loss of the tightness in his chest he had become so used to. So involved in himself, he nearly completely missed Arthur's reply.

"If you repeat that a third time I'll be inclined to believe you actually want me to go."

Alfred jerked involuntarily. Arthur had returned to reading, appearing completely unperturbed, save the hints of annoyance in the furrows of his brow and slight tension of his lips. It was barely visible, but Alfred, after so many weeks, was beginning to pick up on the subtle differences. He watched as the merman turned a page, but he was offering up little else.

"…So it wasn't a dream," was all Alfred's brain supplied him with in the end. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"No, it was a figment of your imagination," he snorted. Alfred couldn't find anything to say and for a time silence passed. He was even rendered completely unaware he was positively staring. Arthur must have felt the eyes on him however, for eventually, with an annoyed sigh, he lowered the script.

"You know, Alfred, perhaps you should be more concerned about yourself and your lack of sleep? I can assure you I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. If I wanted to, I could have left many times already." He regarded Alfred with those piercing green eyes. "It's not as if I have not had the opportunity."

Alfred wished he had his brother's ability to think things through before he spoke. Unfortunately, the majority of his words usually left his mouth unchecked, as he then blurted,

"Are you sure? You might regret-"

Arthur slammed the script down – not uncontrolled, so as not to damage the script, but abruptly enough to make Alfred jump.

"Alfred. I am many decades your elder, I know the consequences of my own actions and I will do as I bloody well please! It is no concern of yours and I do not require you to guard over me like an anxious mother bird." His eyes flashed, boring hard and unyielding into Alfred.

"..I-" Alfred stammered.

"No. You nothing. I grew up in captivity and it is about time you come to terms with this. Both you and my brother. I am not made of glass nor disabled and it is about high time you both stopped treating me as such. It is getting tiresome." Arthur's presence was suddenly all around him, pressing the words into him, making him listen, forcing every letter into his skin and Alfred was sharply reminded of exactly what Arthur was. Somehow, despite the very obvious tail, it was still so easy to forget.

The merman did not let him go and Alfred knew that right then he was completely in Arthur's graces. He couldn't move. He felt as though he had been startled from a deep slumber, the abruptly clear edges of reality painful on his senses. He was not allowed to look away and as he was made to keep looking into those green wells he could feel the grip thickening around him. He could feel the merman's emotions boiling, rippling in the air. He could feel Arthur's frustrations and he understood.

Frustration, anger, sadness, curiosity and fear- anguish. It washed over him, an icy wave that solidified into clear walls – not walls, glass – around him, locking him in, locking the world out. Infinitely out of reach but not out of sight. It was a torment unlike anything he had ever known, clawing at his throat, crushing his chest. He wanted to scream, but there was no point. There was barely room to move, even if he had had the power to do so. He should just give in. So easy to just close his eyes never to open them again. But he could not bring himself to let go. It began in his core, barely there, slowly spiralling outward, a small warmth. A burning will to live, to persist. And it kept him going. Time blurring into an eternity too tormenting to withstand but somehow he endured it.

Then it all shattered around him. For a split second, as gravity seemed to cease its existence, Alfred thought he could see himself, his face slightly distorted yet enhanced by water and glass. Then it was gone.

Cool air rustled his clothes, the wheel moved slightly on its axis in time with the ship. Alfred stared. All traces of anger had completely drained from Arthur's body. Slender, pale fingers idly smoothed out worn pages, green eyes glazed over, far away, drifting distantly to the black ocean. A quiet sigh.

"It is a part of my life, now my past. That is all."

Alfred was dimly aware of the sailors on deck, carrying out their duties, oblivious. "Yes," he said at last and the calm of the night had settled back into Alfred's bones, as though it had never left at all.

"At any rate," Arthur's tone had changed, his previous speech left behind without an echo. "I doubt you realise how annoying all that tossing and turning of yours at night gets after a while."

Alfred was definitely pulled completely back to the present at that. His brows shot upwards. Arthur's glance was a flicker of dry disapproval. Alfred couldn't stop the little bubble of laughter. The exasperated grunt he received in return only spurred his moment of mirth further.

"I will keep that in mind," he promised.

"I am certain." Arthur rolled his eyes.

"You are terribly talkative these days, hm?" Alfred said before he could think better of it. At the merman's almost offended expression – as though this thought was the height of unthinkables – Alfred added, "well, with Aaron and Corey at any rate."

He could feel Arthur's eyes on him and all of a sudden he found it all too difficult to meet the gaze. His body was all at once rigid and when at last he managed a glance to the side green intense eyes met him, unyielding, -amused?- and he thought he could see one corner of Arthur's mouth curling into the smallest smile. Or perhaps it was his imagination. He stared forwards, furious and confused at the pinch of heat he could feel nibbling at his neck and ears. Then the quiet gently wrapped them up again and the world carried on.

"Will you help me get back out there?"

Alfred jerked but this time the merman's attention was not on him. "The waters are different at night," he explained, almost as though talking to himself. Tilting his head he looked back to Alfred, though Alfred could not quite decipher his expression. "I'll take you one day and you can see for yourself."

Alfred paused, taking in the ocean, the hushing sounds, the smells, and he believed it. He didn't hesitate as he relinquished the wheel. Stepping next to Arthur he just nodded as he put his arms around him and hoisted him into a sitting position on the railing. He felt strange, but not uncomfortably so. Somewhere in the corner of his mind an unimportant voice wondered to itself what the time was.

"You do not need to sleep?" He asked, feeling at once strangely silly for his questions. Arthur's eyes sparkled with absent amusement. He wobbled slightly as he repositioned himself and Alfred supported him with a hand on his back. A frozen image of Corey's hand flashed unbidden in his mind and he frowned down at the view of own hand.

When he raised his head again he flinched to find Arthur observing him, their faces so close he could feel the merman's breath across his nose and cheek. A tilt of the head, a flicker of curiosity. Alfred found he was unable to move, somewhere deep inside was the knowledge he didn't want to either. The ocean breeze brushed past them, invisible caresses, and Alfred just felt compelled – to slide his hands along the soft skin, arms encircling the merman completely. Pulling the sea creature close to him gave relief like a warm wave. His hold tightened without his notice, fingers spreading as if to hold onto as much of the other as he could, and he looked into those green wells again. They seemed to swallow him up, erasing everything else – nothing else was important. Nothing but the prisms of mesmerising light, ever changing, ever fluctuating and unpredictable, like the sea beneath him. He could stare forever into them and it would never be enough. He could feel his own pulse, and there was a building urge, like a throbbing in his nerves, growing almost painful until there was no force in him to deny it as he touched his lips to Arthur's.

AN: Hello everyone, long time... I'm not going to get into it right now, let's just say real life took over and stuff happened and a devastating writer's block has kept me away from any kind of writing.

I'm sorry if this chapter maybe isn't quite up to "standard" (if I have such a thing xD ). I am trying to get back into it. It will unfortunately probably be quite a wait for the next chapter as I'm still working on getting back into the story. But I stand by what I have said before; the story WILL be finished. It's just going to take some time... ^^' I'm so sorry.

THANK YOU so incredibly much to everyone who reviewed and messaged. I am truly truly sorry I didn't reply, I promise I will from now on. Every time I received a note, though I was empty for inspiration, it made me so happy and it is thanks to all of you that I am finally posting this chapter. So thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, I appreciate you all so incredibly much!

Lastly, I hope everyone is doing well, as well as one can, with what is going right now. My heart goes out to all families that have been affected. Take care of yourselves and stay safe.