Rebellious Tendencies

[Meldawen]

"Right," said Phaerin for the millionth time, squinting back at the receding city with his face in the teeth of a bracing salty wind, "my parents think I'm accompanying you on a visit to one of your distant cousins on Pyreva, your parents think you're accompanying me on a visit to one of my distant cousins on Pyreva, I've hidden everything in my quarters that might so much as suggest I mean ill to the Regent's left big toenail, packed the rest, and taken as many crowns as I dare to without dear Father noticing. Not difficult. So as long as our parents don't compare notes..." he trailed off. "Am I missing anything?"

This was the umpteenth time he'd run through his list - at least five in the carriage, three on the docks, another three while they waited for the ship to set sail, and now instance number two on the trim little schooner that was hightailing it out of Port Brevenn's expansive harbour. One almost wondered why be bothered, because the captain certainly wasn't turning around now, not even for the two wealthy young gentlemen lounging in the prow. He did have a schedule to keep, after all.

[pirateoftherings]

"And in the occasion that parental units do exchange notes and actually care enough about the implications to be potentially threatening, Cerys will cover for us...somehow," Kjan replied for the millionth time. "Oh, and in the almost certain eventuality of finding our lives in excessive danger of being imminently terminated, it's all your fault. As usual."

Leaning back against the rail, he took a bite out of the apple that he'd purchased back in port. Really, he was being rather calm about all this, all things considered, he noted with an air of mild satisfaction. Not that much could take him by surprise any more, after more than twenty years of enduring countless Phaerin Grey 'plans,' but he would have expected himself to be at least a touch more concerned about sailing to an island that neither of them knew well in order to contact some exiled, dangerous outlaw who could hopefully aid them in discrediting the nearly-omnipotent ruler of the entire country.

He strongly suspected that the shot of liquor that he'd downed shortly before embarking was among the main contributory factors.

The captain, upon being showed a considerable amount of money, had quickly agreed to give them passage, just as long as they would 'stay out of the way.' Thus, they were attempting to remain as inconspicuous as possible as the sailors went about their usual routines aboard the ship, and would continue to do so until their destination was reached.

All that to say, Kjan was already bored. "How long did he say the voyage would last?" he abruptly asked, turning to squint up at the full sails of the ship. They seemed to be making good enough time, though he was far from an expert on the matter.

"Six hours, maybe five if th' wind holds," the captain himself replied, joining them at the prow. He glanced at the horizon briefly and added, "Eight if those clouds get any darker and nearer."

Of course, Kjan reflected wryly. What sort of adventure would it be if the start of the journey were perfectly ordinary and harmless? He opened his mouth to comment, but the captain apparently wasn't finished.

"Now, I typically make a point of keepin' my head out of others' business and asking no questions," he was saying conversationally, "but you've piqued my curiosity. What manner of business takes two young nobles like yourselves to an island like Pyreva?"

"Did we say we were nobles?"

"You're wavin' around gold pieces like they were coppers. I figure you're either filthy rich or idiots," the man countered. "Either way, the question stands."

Kjan merely shrugged. "My second-cousin," he said flippantly. "In a bad way, apparently. I got a letter requesting that I visit. Didn't have much better to do, so there you have it."

The captain didn't seem convinced in the least, but he didn't press the topic further. "Just mind that you aren't in the way of my men - especially in the event of a storm. If those clouds reach us, you'd best go below deck. Won't do to have our paying passengers washed overboard." Nodding shortly, he turned and made his way back to the helm.

[Meldawen]

True to form, Phaerin looked positively gleeful at the idea of a harrowing experience at sea. "Belowdeck will be stultifying boring," he said mournfully, once the captain had gone. "Look, lightning."

---

The first time water had gushed in through a porthole, Phaerin had given up trying to see out of it. His enthusiasm had been a little diminished when he found himself soaking wet. The sky was pelting rain, and though the storm itself didn't seem to have quite built up to full intensity - which was a little worrying, as the ship was tossing enough as it was - both passengers had been banished belowdeck at the first sprinkle. Apparently the captain was either extremely responsible, or extremely aware of the money he was going to get upon their arrival in Pyreva.

"This is so boring," sighed Phaerin, flopping onto a bunk with the grace of a fish out of water. For the second or third time, he got out the bedraggled bits of parchment in his waistcoat pocket, as if expecting to find out something new by rereading. He really failed miserably at practicing the virtue of patience. One almost expected him to come out mournfully with, "Are we there yet?"

The scene wouldn't have failed to inspire, in an onlooker, both admiration for the stalwart Lady Grey with her resolute perseverance in raising such a son, and pity for Kjan.

"Right, so," he said, raising himself on one elbow, "I figure we'll port in Pyreva and find an inn first. Ever heard of anyplace that might require a password, possibly from that second cousin of yours?" This, of course, was poking fun, as neither of them had ever had, nor were likely to ever have, anything approaching a relative in Pyreva. "Or shall we go around proclaiming it until someone notices?"

[pirateoftherings]

"I don't know. This is your bloody plan, isn't it?" Kjan muttered from where he lay on the bunk opposite Phae's. Over the course of the past hour, he had made a rather fascinating discovery: he hated sailing. Vehemently. Especially in a storm. Apparently, not only did the ship tossing around like it was make falling off of the bunk a constant worry, but it did all sorts of unexpected, unwanted, undesirable things to one's stomach. Kjan had managed to avoid losing his lunch so far (which was a feat even without the storm, given the quality of the food at the tavern they had visited), but it was feeling like a definite possibility.

Ignoring the lurch that his stomach gave at the movement, Kjan propped himself up with some effort and looked over at Phaerin. "I don't know," he said at length. "Given how testy Eledhe was about it all, I don't know if it's exactly smart to go around advertising our involvement. Maybe just have a look around when we get there and keep an eye out for exclusive-looking places?"

[Meldawen]

"Eledhe's testy about everything," said Phaerin a touch mournfully, flopping backwards to lie prone, looking dolefully at the ceiling. He really was a very bad travel partner. "Do you think they'd object if I went above to ask around a bit? Just for interest's sake?"

Fortunately, Kjan was spared the necessity of answering when the ship was rocked violently by a large swell - they were getting bigger - and all unattached items went jangling wildly about the cabin. Namely, Unattached Item Phaerin Grey.

One couldn't quite blame him for his train of thought being a bit put off when he staggered to his feet against the opposite wall, looking a little dazed. "Right," he managed after all his thoughts had stopped merrily ricocheting off the inside of his skull. "Not so keen on going above, then."

-----

When the schooner docked in Pyreva, it was two young men thoroughly cured of any desire for sea travel that unsteadily disembarked. Phaerin counted out some silver into the captain's hand, but he wasn't sure whether or not it was the right amount, and didn't really care.

They somewhat blended with the general populace upon venturing up the main street of the thriving coastal town. Every second man one laid eyes on was either staggering about drunkenly, or staggering about attempting to remember how to walk on land once they'd walked at sea. Staggering, in general, was not unusual at all.

After some wandering, Phaerin haphazardly decided on the first inn readily available, which was cheerily known as The Kraken's Bait. Some more silver got a pair of rooms and some ale - which was desperately needed - and then Phaerin slumped back in his seat and gulped down half a mug. "I think I want to walk home," he proclaimed after a moment. This didn't make sense, Pyreva being an island, but he wasn't at his best.