Chapter 7

When Grantaire woke up, Enjolras was already gone. The blanket lay perfectly folded at the foot end of the bed. The chains were still lying where Grantaire had left them the day before. Grantaire wasn’t sure whether the captain had just forgotten about their existence or was using it as a silent threat. He had the power to put Grantaire back in chains again.

Grantaire didn’t leave the cabin. Instead he walked to the table where the captain had been working on the day before. It was covered with a large map and some smaller pieces of parchment with notes on them. Enjolras’ handwriting was surprisingly curly. Grantaire had expected some rough lines, barely readable. Instead this almost looked like cursive.

The captain had written down coordinates and some other instructions. There were words underlined, words crossed out. It was… Well, it was a mess. Grantaire couldn’t describe it any other way.

He took the wooden instrument that had been lying next to it. No one had ever bothered to teach him about it, or even about how it was called, but Éponine had told him a lot about the use and he had seen Claquesous en Montparnasse use it a lot of the time. He just started to repeat whatever they had done and what seems logical. He had no clue whether he was doing anything right.

“What are you doing?” he suddenly heard Enjolras say. He hadn’t even noticed the door opening. The man sounded irritated, again.

“Just looking,” he said. Of course common sense had told him not to touch the captain’s stuff, but no one ever told him, right?

“You shouldn’t touch that.” No really? But when Enjolras came closer, the look on his face changed. “Wait, what have you done there?” It somehow didn’t sound like Grantaire had messed anything up?

“I, um, just added these together?”

Enjolras nodded. “You’re a genius. That was exactly what would untangle the puzzle. If I do this, then…” Grantaire was pretty much forgotten while the captain started working on the map. He had no clue what he had done, but apparently it had been what Enjolras had needed?

As he was leaving the cabin, Enjolras looked up at him. “Could you bring me breakfast?” he asked. “I promise, I will eat it.” Was Enjolras making a joke? What was happening here?

Grantaire made his way to the kitchen, where Joly was almost done with making breakfast. “Grantaire!” the man said. He looked actually happy to see Grantaire. But really, where else would Grantaire be? It wasn’t like he could just leave the ship in the middle of the sea.

“Will you help me with the preparations for dinner?”

Grantaire shook his head. “Enjolras asked for breakfast.”

Joly chuckled. “Did he now? That must be the first time since I’ve met him.” But he started to prepare a plate nevertheless. If he had questions about why Grantaire was the one asking for it, he didn’t ask them. Maybe that was Grantaire’s purpose here? To be the captain’s errand boy? To be the captain’s fucking slave, to do as his master commanded.

Still he brought the plate back to the cabin. Enjolras was still busy with the map.

“What is so interesting about it that you can’t even take a break to eat?” Grantaire asked. Nobody would convince him that they hadn’t got enough gold from the Patron Minette. Grantaire didn’t know numbers, but he knew that they had enough gold on board. There would be no need to rob another ship.

“I need to crack their coded letter before they get away,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure, what if you would miss their gold. You wouldn’t survive it, right?” he answered sarcastically. He just… he didn’t get it. Why would pirates like Enjolras endanger their lives to get a bit of gold? They had literally declared themselves outlaws, non-exisiting in this world. What amount of wealth would be worth that?

“This isn’t about gold. It’s about saving lives,” the captain said, like he was some sort of saint saving the world. Maybe Courfeyrac had been right, maybe Enjolras wanted to change the world, to have everyone lying at his feet. Maybe he just was a lunatic.

“Since when do you care about that,” he snapped. Éponine’s face looked at him from inside his mind. Had she died in battle? Been executed by the pirates afterwards? Grantaire didn’t know, and didn’t know what was worse: not knowing or knowing the answer. Right now he could blame Enjolras, stupid godlike Enjolras who seemed to rule the world. But what if he found out it had been Joly? Courfeyrac? They had been kind to him, even if that was just a show. It was easier to keep the show going, than to be brought back to reality.

“Apparently I care more than you,” Enjolras said back. Grantaire just felt the urge to… to hit that fucking man. To make him see sense, to make him realize that killing others just for sports definitely wasn’t ‘caring about people’.

“Tell that lie to all the fucking people you’ve killed! Tell that lie to Éponine!” Grantaire shouted back, before leaving the cabin. The door closed behind him with a loud bang. Oh, he hated that man, for what he had taken from Grantaire, for the way he had changed Grantaire’s entire life, for his unknown destiny.

For the way his breath stopped short every time Enjolras entered the room.

He wanted to hide from everyone, just for a moment. But of course, his fucking room was the same fucking cabin as he had just left behind. He couldn’t go back there, not now. Not ever. But how could he look at Joly and act like he hadn’t chosen to follow that cruel god? How could he act like he was okay, when he clearly wasn’t?

His best hiding place was sitting between some barrels, while slowly trying to empty one of the bottles of rum he had found. It was okay, he told himself. He could do this. He really could. He had to.