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It is a lucky man who finds the love of his life, though that was never something I considered a priority.
Realizing I liked men and women in equal parts came easy to me. I was wise enough to understand this was no standard, but, growing up among pirates, it was never discouraged. Not in the way Monty and Percy sometimes let slip it was for them. The first time Scipio caught me below decks making out with our new carpenter, he didn’t scold me because it was another boy, but for the fact that we were doing it in public.
Though I never searched for the one . I've always been a sailor, always traveling somewhere else. I've needed the sea like the very air in my lungs, so settling down has never been on my agenda. I had my fair share of dalliances, and I liked it that way.
I had been in the middle of such a dalliance when I was called in to help the Montague siblings. His name was Teo and he had beautiful dark eyes and the gentlest voice and I thought he would be out of mind as soon as he was out of sight. And he was.
Which is why it surprised me so much when I walked into that same bar where I met him, and I found him there, a woman's hand on his cheek and him looking at her like she was every star in the sky, and I felt glued to the floorboards.
I had thought of him. Only half-seriously at first. After Adrian mentioned him, something lingered, like spots in your vision after you accidentally looked into the sun. I found myself thinking of his laugh, his soft-spoken manner, his shy glances when he thought I wasn't looking.
Our original encounter felt like something detached from time. I found him, sitting at the bar with only his drink for company. His was a casual beauty—lovely in a non-self-conscious way, with curls he’d absently raked his hands through too many times, shirtsleeves rolled up over his elbows, reading glasses tucked into the neckline, ink smudges on his fingers, confusing themselves with birthmarks.
Somehow we got talking. I found out he’s a cartographer, and he’s spent a good decade on ships, pirate and otherwise, navigating captains to their destination but never finding his own. He felt lost in a way that no compass could rectify, that no geographical knowledge could compensate for. He asked me if I felt the same at times. I was about to go for a flippant reply, when our eyes met, and I had to reconsider.
And at my hesitation, he kissed me.
Overwhelmed by the exuberance in the bar, he led me to his room, exchanging breathless kisses the entire way there. He wanted to go further but his state—a precarious mixture of inebriation and sadness—made me turn him down.
It fell quiet between us.
“Tomorrow?” he said.
“I’m not sure I’ll still be here then,” I replied, half-laughing though it was insincere. Insincere in a way that contrasted harshly with the openness in his big brown eyes when he widened them, then cast them down.
He took my hand.
“Please,” he whispered. “Stay.”
So I did. I ran my fingers through his hair until he fell asleep. After, I watched the rise and fall of his chest, steady like a peaceful ocean. And I, myself, drifted away.
The following day was one of the strangest of my life. We were both surprised when, upon waking up, we still found each other in the bed. It was a strange sort of relief. I’d never been particularly attached to anyone beside the family that raised me on the Eleftheria , but something had forged a bond between me and this strange man, and I was not quite yet ready to test its sturdiness.
We spent our day in the city. He had only just arrived, and I frequented the place, so I took the liberty of showing him my favorite places. His eyes shone with wonder every time I did, listening raptly as I told of my pirate exploits, and I never strayed further than a foot away from him for fear of being out of reach of that smile’s warmth.
It felt like a scene from a different life—the life of someone who craved more from companionship than a fun evening, of someone whose life wasn’t ruled by the tides; always back and forth. Leaving and returning, always in motion, never staying in one place.
I didn’t think I’d ever find reason to stay in one place.
At night we returned to his bed, though that went very differently, albeit just as quiet and sincere. I saw the light from the candle on the nightstand reflected in his eyes, trusting and half-lidden, and there was no sound but the muffled ones of the bar downstairs, and our breathless gasps.
The next day I got word that no one less than Monty Montague-Should-Be-Newton was in town, and furthermore, requiring my help.
Our goodbye felt like an inevitability. The time we spent together was something precious and rare, like pearls, and we both were wise enough to keep it safe within our memories.
I could feel his eyes in my back when I walked away.
~~~
My fatal error was how long I’d stayed frozen, staring, because Teo smiled at the woman, moved back, and haphazardly looked around the room, spotting me. His eyes widened. “George!” I saw his lips form, though I couldn’t hear him over the rustle of the crowd.
And I was overcome with an urge entirely foreign to me in any social situation—to turn on my feet and run.
But I didn’t. I forced a smile in return and, my feet feeling like lead, headed over. Teo beamed at me, and finally, the woman turned too, which led me to my second surprise of the evening: I knew her too. Her dark eyes, the color on her cheeks, her chapped lips, always a wicked smile lurking in the corners of her mouth. She was as stunned to see me as I was to see her.
I was then distracted by Teo pulling me into a tight hug—I kept being caught off guard that entire night. Teo held me for a good while, and, in spite of the confusing emotions going on in my head, I couldn’t help melt into it. He still smelled the same, of old paper and ink.
He put me at a distance again. “It’s so good to see you!” he said, voice feathered with incredulous laughter. “I thought I’d never—Oh, this is Amani, my—Have you two… met?”
He’d noticed our staring. Amani seemed in a similar struggle for words.
“Yes,” I eventually managed. “We have.”
We rivaled for the same shipwreck once. I headed out to clear it for the Crown and Cleaver, only to find another ship already there.
“This wreck belongs to the Crown and Cleaver,” I called, as the plank was put between our ships.
A woman sauntered across, her silhouette backlit by the sun, obscuring her features. She hopped off and fixed her hijab from where the wind had pulled the fabric loose. She looked me up and down, leaning on her sword, and finally said, “You’re cute. How about you and your ship leave now, and I’ll forget you were here.”
I scoffed in disbelief. “I was about to suggest the same.”
“No, you weren’t. The quip’s too witty. It hadn’t popped into your mind yet.”
I blinked a few times, then regained my composure. I crossed my arms. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”
“Yes. I’m sorry too.” She grinned, lopsided. “You’d love to get to know me.”
“Are you trying to get the entire Crown and Cleaver on your back?”
“Am I? Not sure. D’you think that would be fun?”
I was momentarily lost for words. “Are you serious?”
“Me? Never.”
Before I could stop myself, a laugh escaped me. I immediately froze up, feeling the judgmental stares of my crew. Amani just raised a challenging eyebrow.
“You know, I think there’s a perfectly good solution to this situation we’ve found ourselves in,” she continued, carelessly flinging her sword around. “How about you and I duel? And whoever wins, gets the wreck.”
“That’s not how any of this—”
I was forced to cut myself off when her sword missed me by an inch, and I jumped back, drawing my own weapon.
Naturally, the encounter resulted in the two of us later that day falling into bed. I almost wasn’t mad when I woke up in the morning and found she’d taken off with the treasures from the wreck.
Something about Amani’s contrary nature was irresistible. Even with the scolding I received, I couldn’t help remembering the incident in fondness. I thought of her sometimes, never intentionally—she had a birthmark on her cheekbone, and every time I saw someone with one similar, it threw me back; every time someone’s laugh resembled her carefree one, and sometimes, the stars in the inky sky reminded me of that mischievous glimmer in her eye, that I never thought I’d see again.
But here she was.
Here they both were.
~~~
“Really?” Teo said, still equally enthusiastic. “That’s crazy! Well, I suppose, not that crazy, I bet you meet so many people on your travels—Amani and I grew up together.”
Oh. Another stone fell, weighing me down. I think I still had a smile fixed in place but I wasn’t sure. Amani cast her eyes away, suddenly shy.
“Did you?” I heard myself say. “So lovely you two found each other again.”
“Isn’t it?” Teo looked over to Amani, and she conjured a small smile. Then he turned back to me. “Oh, did you attend to that business that came up?”
“I did.” The dread in my stomach for reasons I didn’t quite understand yet started dissipating, even if just by necessity, and I settled back into my usual ease. I smiled. “So I’m back.”
“For long?”
“Eh.” I dragged a stool closer and sat down. “Depends on my motivation to stay, I’d say.”
Teo smiled broadly. “See anything interesting on your travels?”
Beyond you? I almost said, and was immediately glad I didn’t. “Oh, you know. The usual.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Amani cleared her throat and stood up. “I should go.”
“Oh, no.” Teo took her hand. “Please stay? I’m having the best night I had in months and I’d like to share it with you two.”
Amani and I exchanged a glance. “Not scared of the Crown and Cleaver, are you?” I asked her teasingly.
One corner of her mouth tugged up. “Is the Crown and Cleaver scared of me?”
I'm not proud to admit I was eager to be rid of them. Not because I didn't like them—the very opposite. But every time they shared a knowing glance or an inside joke, it stirred in me an emotion I was not familiar with.
I tried to ignore it. I figured I’d part ways with them soon enough.
Fate would have it otherwise, as my next venture out to sea required a slightly larger crew. Especially after my first mate got ill and had to leave board. Which left the Eleftheria with a journey into unfamiliar waters, short on staff and proper knowledge of which way to travel.
When I mentioned this while sharing dinner with Teo and Amani, Amani frowned at me. “And this is a problem because…?”
“Because.” I swallowed my bite. “I’m short on crew?”
“Well, Teo can navigate,” she said carelessly, and Teo’s shoulders pulled up in surprise. “I’m willing to co-captain.”
“I’m looking for a first mate. And besides, what happened to your ship?”
“Eh, you know how these things go.” She waved the comment away. “Need me a new crew. Think I could get yours to mutiny?”
I shook my head but couldn't keep the smile off my face. “Still looking to retaliate for the time I beat you, Amani?”
“What time? That never happened.”
“Seriously, though. Teo? Don’t you have other plans?”
He shrugged. “Not really. I’ve been working odd jobs here since I left my last ship, but I think I’m ready to head back out.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Yeah.” He smiled at me. “And you’ll be around to protect me from harm, won’t you?”
I puffed up my chest. “You bet. And Amani too, if she’s stowing herself aboard.”
Amani rolled her eyes, then softened. “If you’re sure you want me.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
The vulnerability disappeared from her expression. “Exactly. They don’t often come as skilled as me, George. You know that.”
Which resulted in two of my ex-lovers boarding my ship at least for the foreseeable future.
And it didn’t turn out half as awkward as I thought it would. Amani and I fell into a quick routine of bickering back and forth, and Teo watched us in fondness. Other times, late at night, we’d sit at the map table, listening to Teo as he talked about the books he’d read, long distracted from our route to follow. Teo has a bit of a nervous nature, making him fall into place between the other crewmen less fast, but somehow, Amani would always be there to put his mind at ease.
We were well matched-up, the three of us, even in the way I’d made peace with third wheeling.
Because they were perfect for each other, they really were. They complemented each other like day and night, sun and moon, and I was the stars, watching them in fondness from a distance, but always too far away.
Which was something I had, after several weeks, admitted to myself: I cared about them. Not in a platonic or familial way—there was something about both of them that I couldn’t get out of my head. Teo, and the care he put into everything he did; his dedication to his passions; and the sincerity and vulnerability with which he loved—Amani, and her quick wit; natural confidence; yet the softness that was never far below the surface.
But they were meant to be together, and I shouldn’t have felt my stomach sink when I saw them kissing in the powder magazine. I don’t think I left quietly enough for them not to hear me. Dinner was exquisitely awkward, but, in spite of their many exchanged glances, neither of them brought it up.
That would take until we were under siege by an enemy ship.
Amani and I were shouting orders to our crew, somehow in perfect sync—gunfire was exchanged, and the Eleftheria had taken a few hits, but I felt confident we would not be defeated; the other ship was too small, with not enough men—they had no idea what they’d brought upon themselves. But one man is enough to fire a gun at the cartographer who shouldn’t have been on deck, and enough to make my shoulder burn with pain when I pushed Teo out of the way, the bullet grazing me. We tumbled down, me landing on my arm so my vision whitened out with pain. I grit my teeth as I pushed myself up against the rail to be out of the firing line.
“George!” Teo’s face was white as a corpse’s, his trembling fingers brushing my cheek as he took in the damage. “What were you thinking?”
“Well.” I grimaced. “I said I’d protect you. What were you doing on deck?”
“I was—” He blinked fast. “I was worried about you two—”
In a whirlwind, Amani had sat down on my other side, surveying the wound. I flinched when her hands grazed the edge. “That’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll live. Here.” She ripped a strip from her sleeve and wound it around it. The blood seeped through immediately.
“Glad I’ll still be officiating you two’s wedding, huh?” I said. I don’t know why. It just escaped me.
They looked surprised for a moment, then looked at each other. “George…” Teo started.
I put up my uninjured arm. “It’s fine. I’m happy for you two.”
“But we’re not,” Teo blurted. He went red. “I mean, we are. I am. I’m… Amani fancies me. How lucky am I?” He laughs nervously. “It’s just that… We didn’t know how to tell you that—”
“Teo fancies you too,” Amani cut him off, and all the blood left my head. Then her shoulders pulled off. “And… so do I.”
I gaped. I looked between them for some hint I’d misheard—my shoulder really was hurting like hell—but neither of them gave one. “You…” I finally managed, “...what?”
“We like you, you moron,” Amani said. “But we are definitely talking about this some other time because—”
I pulled her into a kiss.
She froze up, before relaxing, lips curling into a smile. She gently pushed me away. “Another time, I said.”
I wasn’t listening to her. I was already kissing Teo.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” I said, and they both laughed in exasperation.
We did talk about it afterward. Extensively. We shared all three our sides of the story, and I found I was the one furthest behind. Amani and Teo had confessed their love for each other weeks ago, but chosen not to act on it, as they both liked me but had no clue how to tell me.
“Really?” I said. I was sitting on deck, taking in the sunlight, while Teo replaced my bandages. Whenever he accidentally pulled them too tight and I hissed under my breath, he whispered, “Sorry!”
“Don’t let it get to your head,” Amani said with a crooked smile.
“I mean… Amani, did you not know how to tell me you loved me? So very unlike you.”
“Ugh. I told you he’d get all cocky about it,” she told Teo, who shook his head, poorly hiding his amusement. I tugged her arm and kissed her on the temple.
“But I’m glad,” I said quietly. “So very, very glad.”
And I am. Our time together has been blissful. I never needed companionship like this—I’ve always been fine on my own—but it is such a very lovely gift, and I will cherish it as long as it is mine.
This is what I’m thinking about, sitting up in my bed as I watch Teo and Amani sleep. Amani has tucked her face in the crook of Teo’s neck, and Teo’s arm is still around my waist. I’d stay here forever if I could.
Teo’s eyes flutter open. I stroke his hair out of his face and lean down to kiss him. He smiles a sleepy smile at me.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I whisper.
“Hi.” He beams. “Are you sure you’re not a dream? I keep waking up and thinking you’ll be just a dream.”
I laugh and kiss him again.
It is a lucky man who finds the love of his life. Of course, it is a luckier man who finds the love of his life twice.
~~~
It’s early summer, and I’ve agreed to take Monty and Percy to Santorini for their honeymoon, after their marriage a few months back. Percy is staring out over the ocean.
“Hello, darling,” I say, as I join him at the rail. He looks up, granting me a smile that I can’t help but find gorgeous. Everyone always teases me about how obsessed I used to be with Percy when I was younger, but I can’t hold it against myself.
Percy is beautiful, indisputably—his lithe frame, the way his curls fall around his face, the star map of freckles under his eyes. But there's more to him than that—Percy Newton always has been truly and genuinely kind. Not the sort of someone who has never had reason to think ill of others; no, Percy has the kindness of a man whom the world bruised and battered at every turn, who has been treated unfairly more times than is reasonable—but who has chosen to care for it all the same.
“Taking in the sights, are you?” I ask, and Percy hums.
“It’s not exactly like I remember, but…” He smiles in fondness. “So very close. Isn’t that amazing? Nearly twenty-five years later.” He looks over at me. “Thank you for doing this for us. I mean it.”
“Ah,” I wave him away, “of course. You and Monty are family.”
Percy’s smile widens. He takes his arm from under him and wraps it around my shoulders, pulling me to him. “I’m glad you landed on your feet. Though I never doubted you would.”
“Damn straight,” I say, and he laughs. He releases me, and we go back to staring out onto the sea. My home, equal parts to the people I carry in my heart.
I hadn’t always thought I would. Land on my feet, that is. After Scipio passed, I was lost. Foolishly I’d thought it wouldn’t affect me as badly. We’d lost men before. But Scipio… he raised me. He was my father. And when he went, I lost a part of my heart with him.
I found myself on Monty and Percy’s doorstep in London a few weeks after, a little unsure of how I got there. They took me in without question. I needed some time before I could return to the ocean, before I could return to a life, and they understood that. In various ways, they had lost too, over the years. I’ve always known that, no matter why, no matter when, when every anchor snapped and every port turned hostile, their door would be open for me.
Ferrying them across the sea for their honeymoon is the least I can do in return.
A laugh comes from behind us, and we both look up. Back on the deck, Amani is attempting—very much attempting—to teach Monty how to swordfight. His stance is rubbish, his wrist unsteady, and Amani’s pretty much able to take the sword from him with her bare hands, making Monty pout and Teo laugh.
“I’ll have you know I’m plenty heroic,” Monty says seriously.
“Mmm-hmm,” Amani replies, and Teo stifles another laugh.
“I am,” Monty reinstates. “Aren’t I, darling?” he calls over.
“Very, my love,” Percy calls back. “I would trust you to keep me safe from the devil himself.”
Monty lifts his chin. “Hear that?”
“Don’t confuse yourself with the hero in your books, Monty,” Teo says, smiling.
Monty perks up, fully giving up on the sword and picking his cane back up instead. “Oh, you’ve read them?”
“I have.”
Monty swoons in a gasp. “I have a fan . I knew this day would come.”
Percy fondly shakes his head and turns away again, though he stops halfway, watching me. I realize I’m smiling like an idiot, but I can’t help myself.
“I’m glad to see you happy,” he says, sincerely.
“Ah, well,” I say lightly. I look back to Monty and Teo now talking about his books while Amani sits with them, then to Percy, and find my own lovesick smile mirrored. “I was inspired.”