A Hidden Queen

Chapter 78

John gently sets his cup down on the edge of the gunwale, leaning his weight into the old wood. From the quarterdeck, he observes his men continue to play their instruments, dance, sing and drink to their hearts content over the young couple's joining. The hanging lanterns swayed with the rolling deck casting an orange glow to the merry faces. Josephine and Charlie sat against one another, listening to the tales strung by the older crew as they quietly nursed their drinks.

"Oh, Mary. I wish you and Clinton were here to see this." John whispers sadly.

"Ain't you a sore sight."

John glances over his shoulder, a suspicious eyebrow raised. Pittman stands in the fading light, his own cup perched on the wheel housing. The tired grey eyes stare at him with knowing expectation. It was a look John knew too well from his father, expect Pittman didn't hold the disapproving undertones.

"Are you following me old man?" John grouses, taking a drink of his liquor.

"More like you're following me. I was here upon the deck first young man." Pittman snorts through his nose. "What are you doing up here by yourself anyways? Do you not wish to take part in the merriment?"

"I simply did not want to hear Burnt parade around another embarrassing story from my youth." John grunts, resting his backside on the edge.

"That's an advantage of being the oldest amongst the crew. There is no one to tell such stories." Pittman chuckles good naturally, allowing a comfortable silence to settle. "It is a beautiful sight, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Those two." He dips his chin towards the newlyweds, gazing at them much like a grandfather would his own grandchildren. "Who would have thought we'd see a pair like that spring up again within a lifetime."

John exhales heavily, glancing down at the pair. He observes Charlie rise to his feet, stretching his long limbs as he offers a hand to Josephine. She smiles happily, allowing him to pull her to her feet as they said their goodbyes. They fumble their way towards the darkness encompassing the other half of the deck. Charlie wrapping his arms around her waist, his long legs almost encircling her in the same manner as he buries his face in her neck.

"I certainly did not think so." John admits, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pittman hums in agreement before taking on a sad appearance, "I must admit, Jonathan, that I had wished the King and Queen were here to see them united as well."

"I imagine there are many that feel the same way, Roger. Including myself. Clinton and Mary would have been proud of the woman Joe has become and the man she chose to marry."

"Aye, they would have. This wedding business has me thinking of them more often, as well as my own children." Pittman pauses, settling into an apprehensive silence. "Let me ask you something John." He begins, leaning against the housing while picking at his shirt. "I know you have a fondness for that pretty Ms. Brandon living on Morga. Why don't you settle down, have a family of your own?"

"This life isn't for a family, Roger." John dismisses.

Pittman snorts at the lame excuse, "Tell that to Clinton and Martha. Or to the two love birds down upon the weather deck."

"Exactly my point, Roger. Look at those families now. Martha and Clinton are dead. And Josephine will have to fight demons for the rest of her life over what she's been through. Our lives are constantly in danger, unexpected occurrences lurking to take it from us."

"Life is difficult for everyone John; we truly do not know what it has in store for us."

"You feel that way and yet you dare ask me to bring a child into such a world?"

"Is that Demon Johnny talking? Or Captain Jonathan Smithen?"

John huffs through his nose, turning his head away from the older man and focusing on the kids. The pair were still entangled in one another before Charlie wrapped his arms around Joe's thighs. John could imagine the delighted, girlish giggle that came out of her as he lifted her from the decking. A radiant smile flicking across her lips as she cups the side of Charlie's face for a passionate kiss.

"Everyone makes their own choices. Just because I live this life doesn't mean I have a love for it nor agree with every aspect of it. It is too heavy to bear the thought of leaving a child fatherless or losing a child to this life. The sheer notion of losing my niece was enough to send me into a tailspin. This life is dangerous, and I cannot bring myself to bear that burden Roger."

"It's not easy, John. And it will never get easier." Burnt thrust his opinions from the darkness giving John whiplash. "However, I can honestly say, it is not always about the hardships that may or may not come, but the strength we gain when enduring them."

"Who invited you to this conversation?" John, teases. "And when did you get up here? Last I checked you were near the skylight tarnishing my good name with your stories."

"Everyone became too drunk to care. And I was beginning to feel lonely." Burnt shrugs. "Seriously John, the joys of being a parent will outweigh the grey hairs you get from the worry."

John snorts, "That may be true, but I am not exactly parent material." He grins, taking a different approach. "And you know me. I'm a live life like it's your last kind of guy."

"I don't believe that for a second." Pittman grouses, bringing his drink to his lips.

John smirks, ignoring the small quip as he scanned his crew. Many were beginning to retire, stumbling to a dark corner of the ship to sleep off the worst of their hangovers. Charlie and Josephine, on the other hand, were fighting for dominance as they entwined within each other. John watches as Charlie hastily scoops Josephine off her feet carrying her down through the skylight while she nibbled at his neck.

"Thank God, they're doing it behind closed doors this time." Burnt grunts, taking a drink from his cup.

An infectious laugh breaks the surface as Pittman chokes on his drink, splashing the liquid back into his face. He smacks Hayden on the chest for the honest statement, wiping at the alcohol that drips from his chin. John shakes his head, tapping his fingers against the half empty cup. He stared down into the swirling liquid as the conversation pinged within his head. Clinton and Mary lived this life and raised Josephine. Pirate Queen or not, Joe had morals that no amount of convincing would waver her from. And Albert had done the same with Clinton. Both had turned into upstanding, kind individuals. This life of piracy was difficult, but it wasn't piracy that took people from each other, it was life itself. The longer you live, the more likely you are to come across hardships and ones like Commodore Philips. But Burnt was right, it was those trials, and having the good company of others, that made a person strong.

"At least they have each other." John mutters quietly.

"Here. Here." Pittman agrees, raising his glass before taking a tentative drink.