Rose said nothing, crossing her arms like a child, forcing up the tight bodice, which seemed to have lost the lace insert she often wore for modesty. Her father wouldn't be pleased to find that she was pouting like a bratty child, but she felt it was needed in a situation like this. Why would she want to go anywhere with this vile man? He wouldn't dare kill her, no he would be like the rest of the greedy people, begging the king for money in exchange for her. Father would pay, of course, she was his princess, his only daughter. Perhaps if the fool played his cards right he could even get some money from the prince, her future husband. Not that she'd give him that bit of information.

"I suppose you'll just have to kill me." She huffed and turned away, trying to hide the small quiver in her lips. Would he take her seriously and go through with it? Tears threatened to spill over at the thought of never seeing her family again. No, she couldn't cry in front of him, couldn't give him the satisfaction. No matter where she tried to look all she could see was the dead, the blood of those sent to protect her. She could smell it, mixed with the salty air, and it made her want to gag.

===

Gerard grunted in reply, it almost sounded like a 'thanks', after having sat completely still and quiet for the rest of her tending. The loss of blood and the large amount of drink was not working out well. He stood and stumbled a bit, struggling to get his footing. "I'm a pirate. Not an idle lord." He grumbled at her, knowing it would be likely he'd break the stitches open before the day was through. They had loot to take aboard the ship, he had tasks to complete, just because he was first mate did not mean he didn't share in the work. Even the captain did.

A few of the other crew members seemed to eye Ariel, and he glared at them until they moved on. "You better watch yourself." It was a warning to her, she wasn't safe with these men. Hell, she wasn't safe with him and he didn't know why he bothered warning her. What could she do to stop them?

He stumbled away, slurring a bawdy song under his breath, his hands groping at the walls for support. He had to find the captain, and some fresh air. That should help. It wasn't like him to really be drunk, he was more than capable of handling himself, but perhaps he had lost more blood than he thought. He could a dull ache in his chest and knew it would only get worse. Good thing he had a stash of the good stuff in his cabin back on the ship. He turned back, just before leaving the store room, "Come on then, be a goo' lass n' help me up these stairs."