Layre furrowed his brow a little as she told him she would need the necklace before, warning him and his crew to stay behind. He didn't argue against it, at least he wouldn't for now. But he wasn't keen on just handing it over to her and letting her free, leaving them stranded in one of the most dangerous parts of the sea. He knew better than to trust a siren. "As you wish, lass," He said simply, turning the wheel. They would cross that bridge when they came to it.

He kept a watchful yet relaxed eye on her as they entered the cabin, the door closing softly behind him. He wasn't worried about her breaking or stealing anything, so he didn't much mind as she walked about, looking at and touching things. He was more than a little amused by her, but still distrustful and cautious. He sat down, continuing to watch her as she poked at the meat. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but he said nothing of it, simply taking a sip of wine. "Well first off, I'd love to know your name, lass," He said. "If there is such a thing you go by. I'd rather know the name of the person I'm entrusting." He sliced into the meat, taking a bite as he watched her drink the water he'd given her. Like any man, he wasn't shy of noticing her beauty, and he didn't do much to hide it either. He cared not what she thought of him, right now he held the upper hand anyway. If she posed a threat he'd simply kill her. She could do nothing without her power.

He paused, waiting for her to get some more food in her stomach before attempting to prod or ask any more questions. "Secondly," He said after a few moments, continuing to eat and drink himself. "I'd like to know how those men managed to catch a beauty such as yourself, despite you killing half their crew?" It would be beneficial to know how they'd captured her just in case the need arose, but he also was simply just curious. No pirates that he'd heard of had succeeded in capturing a siren...or if they had they hadn't lived long enough to tell the tale of doing so. Had she been distracted? Her necklace glittered around his chest, candlelight flickering softly in the darkness to cast a warm glow over the pair. He stood up, taking her empty cup and refilling it again with water. He knew she was thirsty, and maybe part of him held a certain thrill in the danger of continuing to give it to her. Afraid of her powers yet entranced all the same. The very thing that led so many to their watery graves.

"Thirdly," He said, setting the refilled cup back down in front of her, but remaining standing. "How long exactly have you been searching for this?" He gestured to the necklace, greatly intrigued to know the answer. How many years had she wandered the seas, how many men had she killed in the hopes one of them would have it? Why had fate given it to him? And why now had their paths crossed? He wasn't one to believe much in fate or destiny, but he couldn't ignore the coincidence. He placed both hands on the table, bending down close to her, his amber gaze fiercely staring into her oceanic pools as he lowered his voice, rumbling just above a whisper. "How many men have you killed in searching for the very trinket that has lain upon my chest this whole time?" He asked her. "How far are you willing to go to get it back?" He held eye contact with her, intimidating yet...sultry.

"Just what exactly have I gotten myself into by striking up a deal with you?" He questioned. "Can I trust you to hold your word?" He finally stood back up straight to his full height, looking down at her. "Personally, I'm not too keen on letting you swim away into the depths while I'm expected to wait aboard my ship." He picked up the empty dishes, walking over to dispose of them. "How can I trust that you simply won't abandon myself and my crew in one of the darkest and most dangerous parts of the sea? Only to be devoured by your kin in a trap once you have what you've been searching for..."

Judas hummed lightly in his throat as she said her name, nodding a little as his eyes dropped for a moment. "Nice to meet you properly then, Caeliana," He spoke, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "If by chance you hadn't heard from anyone else, my name is Judas. Specifically, Judas Layre Pritchard, but I go by any of those at any given time." He explained, taking another drink. He wasn't picky with what others called him, not even picky if they addressed him by his proper title. He couldn't help but chuckle a little at her distaste of the wine, amused.

When she began to relay her story of capture, he listened intently, his gaze flickering over her as if to study her body language. Observant, cunning, and dangerous of a man was he, but not as dangerous as others. At least not in the same way. "Hmm," He hummed once she'd finished her story. He ran his tongue over his teeth beneath closed lips, thinking. "It strikes me odd they chose to barter you off instead of slitting your throat." He remarked. His tone was not unkind, but it wasn't the most comforting of tones either. "Perhaps it was some sort of twisted fate that they chose to sell you on the streets, with me unknowingly being led right to you." He smirked at her a little, his expression unclear if he meant ill or well.

"Ten years is a long time to search for such a small trinket," He commented once she'd finished her story. He knew not of what that necklace truly meant to her, nor of its true power. But he could sympathize at least a little with her. "Men are indeed vile creatures, that much I can agree with." He said as he bent close to her. Impressed by her unwillingness to break from his gaze, he grinned.

"You're right," He said after she'd finished, turning to watch her as she rose from the table, walking through the cabin. "But I trust no man, I trust no woman." He stood still for a moment, his eyes glittering darkly. "Those men out there may trust me with their lives indeed, but our trust in each other only runs so far. Pirates will be pirates, men will be men." He took a dangerous few steps closer to her, the necklace thumping softly against his chest. "This journey will only lead them to their deaths. They will not survive the songs of your people, no matter how far away they may seem, and yet...they still choose to sail under my command." He backed her up slowly against the wall, placing one arm against it above her head, his chin tilted downwards to look at her face.

"I want that compass." He said lowly, his eye contact unyielding. He kept his body far enough from her that she could duck under him and move if she so wished. "But so long as we don't trust one another, I will not let you go below those depths leaving me stranded in those dark waters with nothing." He let his fingers dance softly over the trinket around his neck. "It's not just a useless trinket to me, either, Cael," He crooned. He let go of the wall, backing up but still eyeing her. "Everything changed the day I was traded this necklace of yours. You know what he told me? The man who gave it to me?" He asked. "He said it gave him nothin' but bad luck. His family dead just days after taking it, the ocean itself sinking his ship, his crew. Wherever he went, bad luck followed." Pritchard smirked. "I'm not a man to believe such tales, so I took it in stride to appease his spirits. But since that day...my luck has indeed shifted."

He turned, walking to the barrel of water and refilling her cup once again, his steps slow and confident, steady. "I was named Quartmaster and Captain just 3 days later. Led my men to riches beyond our wildest dreams. No storm could sink our ship, we ruled these seas. We ruled the tides." His gaze was hot, burning into her as he handed her the cup once more. "I can't just sit by and pretend that luck was for nothing at all. And I'm sure as hell not going to risk losing everything it's brought me by returning it to you without getting that compass first."

"There must be another way. If not I will make one. If my ship is to sink so be it. If my men are to die so be it."

Pritchard couldn't stop the chuckle that left his throat upon her words of having to learn to trust each other. Stubborn as he was, he had to give her that. Silently impressed, and silently infatuated. His somewhat haughty look was replaced by one of intrigue as she questioned his manner of luck. He stood still as she approached him, her dainty fingers reaching up to let the pendent sit between them. His brow furrowed, more interested now than he'd been before. "Worthy?" He questioned, for once his tone one of genuine curiosity, bare of its usual sarcastic tone. She turned away, looking to be confused and perhaps even a bit worried. He looked down at the pendent on his chest, his own fingers gently bringing it up to his face, examining it softly.

He'd rarely taken it off in all the years he'd had it with him, and never once had any immense misfortune come his way while wearing it. "What was it supposed to do, strike me dead?" He sarcastically teased after a moment, his gaze shifting towards her again. The loud crack of thunder split suddenly overhead, causing a slightly worried expression to cross over his face. No. He thought, feeling a brief sense of panic. Not now, not after all these years will I let the luck run out. Without a second word, he breezed out of the cabin, the door pushed open by the sudden strong gales of wind. His hair flowed in waves around his face as he peered onto the deck below, his men shouting to one another as they gripped the ropes of the sails, trying to keep her steady.

He gripped the pendent in one hand as he grabbed the wheel with the other. "Steady men!" He shouted to them below. He tilted his chin to the sky, his brow furrowed in frustration and confusion. Thunder rumbled again, and suddenly it began to pour.

Rain, heavy and solid, pelted down among the crew, the ocean roiling in waves. Pritchard steadied his grip on the wheel, shouting commands to the men below. "It's just a storm gents, it'll pass as always! Keep her steady!" Outwardly his voice and posture boomed with confidence, but internally he was beginning to feel nervous. Why now had a storm come up so sudden in the midst of his talk about the pendend bringing him luck? Were the gods angry? He began to worry even more upon realizing that rain meant there was nowhere outside of the cabin that Cael could go that would prevent her from turning. Anger flared.

Why now?! He thought, gritting his teeth. So far the ship was steady, aside from the waves bashing and rocking her. The entire deck was flooded, dousing the men with each wave that crashed aboard. The skies had been so clear just an hour before....he didn't understand...

He couldn't be sure as to why he'd been so lucky these past several years either, now more confused than ever as she explained its normal effects. What made him so special?

As the storm raged, his fear of losing the battle against the waves began to rise. For the first time in years, he felt unsure of what the outcome would be. "Come on, men!" He shouted, begging them to continue to try their best. His grip on the wheel was tight, but the waves were making it hard to keep it steady, unable to turn the way he wanted, the ocean roiling beneath the ship. His thoughts whirled violently in his head, struggling for the first time to find a solution.

"Pritchard!"

He heard his name being called, Caeliana's voice barely audible above the violence of the storm. He whipped his head around to face her, stumbling slightly as the ship groaned, tipping slightly sideways as a gale of wind rushed into the sails, a large wave crashing into and over the side. His expression twisted into one of distrust and anger as she demanded the necklace, his heart pounding furiously within. "You're mad!" He yelled at her, thunder crashing loudly above. "What makes you think I should give this to you? Now?! In proper weather for you to abandon us!" As if the very sea itself was arguing against him, the boat was tipped again, sending him slipping. The wheel rapidly began to spin as his hands left it, the crewman below screaming as they lost their hold on the sails.

"We can start our trust now!" She shouted. His hands gripped the railing of the quarterdeck, his long dark hair soaked and heavy, his clothes plastered to his skin. His very bones were chilled, the temperature of the water frigid as ice. Reluctantly, he made his way to her, one hand grabbing onto the frame of the doorway as the other slipped the necklace from himself. He hesitated, his greed unwilling to give it over, but he knew better than to let the storm continue its rage. With no other option, he dropped it into her hands, blocking the doorway just in case she attempted to escape with it.

The sounds of the storm seemed to fade away as soon as she began to sing. Despite still trapped in her human form, her voice was nothing short of magical. Having never heard the true voice of a siren, Pritchard couldn't help but stare in awe, his brow furrowing lightly as the crashing of the waves began to settle. He watched intently, seemingly entranced by her voice along with her beauty. The longer she sang, the more he began to trust, stepping aside from the door to walk back out, grabbing the wheel and pulling her back steady as the waves inexplicably calmed. He looked down, the men below scrambling to empty the water that flooded the deck, but the ship itself was steady...and the sea unnaturally calm. He slowly turned his gaze back to her, walking back to her in silence.

She outstretched her hand, the necklace in her palm. Again, the young pirate hesitated, this time...he wasn't sure why. His gaze dropped to the necklace before flitting back to her face. Slowly, almost gently, he took it from her hand, slipping it back around his neck before stepping back into the cabin. His tall formed loomed over her for a moment, his expression unreadable as his gaze studied every one of her features. He pulled the door shut behind him, one hand gently holding the pendent.

Almost stunned speechless by her willingness to help instead of flee, Pritchard didn't know how to feel. She was not in her natural form, so her song shouldn't have worked on him and yet...

"Why did you do it?" He questioned, suddenly feeling as if what he'd known about her was wrong. "Why fix things when you could have so easily escaped? All you had to do was step foot in the rain." He gripped the necklace tighter. "Once it was in your hands you could have.." He trailed off, confused by his sudden emotions.

"I thought your blasted singing wasn't supposed to work when you are like this!" He said, his voice rising a bit, backing her up into the desk as he gestured at her body. "The wind, the tide, the waves!" Me! He added in his head. A pirate's love is for the sea, nothing else. He told himself, tightening his jaw as he broke his gaze from her, opening his hand to look at the shining blue pendent. Perhaps it could also be for a woman...as wild and untameable as the sea...

"You are not to leave these quarters until the rain passes." He commanded, his tone harsh and unyielding as he turned away, waving a hand frustratingly. He didn't understand the wave of vulnerability that had washed over him as she'd sang, but he sure as hell wanted to get it out of his head. He was not a man to fall in love, especially not in such a feeble and fragile way. A simple song simply would not vex him. He pulled a bottle of rum from one of the cabinets, popping the cork and taking a large swig. "A sign from the gods or not, I don't want you out of my sight." He turned to look at her again, his frustration evident in his molten eyes. His confident demeanor had shifted, pushing him into one of slight aggression as his confusion over everything took hold.

He was not ready to thank her, not ready to accept that he'd been in the wrong about her. Deep down he fought against his own tide, his own roiling sea of emotions he didn't understand or allow to the surface often. If he had to be stuck in here with her for the rest of the night...so be it.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, his gazse burning and his jaw clenching as he considered raising a hand to her. He refrained, finding it unbecoming to slap a woman, much less a woman who'd done nothing but help him since her arrival on board. He said nothing, turning away to his rum, heated at her taunts.

"Scared? No." He retorted. "Apprehensive, yes." He took another drink, his bootsteps clicking against the wooden floor as he made his way over to his desk, sitting down in his chair. He propped his legs lazily upon it, crossing one over the other as she spoke again, speaking of a thanks being in order. He scoffed lowly, glancing over at her to see her arms crossed over her chest. A flicker of a smirk danced along his lips as he stared at her. He knew he should thank her, she had saved his ship and his crew...but...he was a mite too stubborn to give her that satisfaction.

He raised the bottle to his lips, taking another small drink. "And what just may be in order if no thanks at all is uttered from my lips?" He questioned, his voice soft and laced with a sultry tone. "Perhaps I can thank you in more ways than just one." He remarked, his voice laced with sracasm. He flashed her a wink before leaning up a bit, grabbing a small map from his desk and looking at it. His eyes drifted over the parchment, tracing the landmarks and stops they'd be making along their journey. It was going to be a long voyage, several months at the least, and he was more than a little worried about keeping a siren on board for that long. So many things could happen in that span of time, and although he did find her to be a woman of her word, he couldn't help but feel distrust.

Maybe it was not a distrust that was directed towards her, but more towards himself. Whatever he had felt within her voice had come as a shock. She'd confirmed her song in this form was not a lure, and he believed that to be true. So what within himself had been so entranced by her voice? His mind wandered back to their conversation from before concerning the luck the necklace had given him all these years. She seemed shocked by it, and she had enticed his curiosity by saying so aloud.

"Perhaps this necklace of yours sees something I don't," He muttered quietly, although directed at her. He shifted his gaze to look at her again, his anger from before having subsided with the help of the cold drink in his hand. "Is there something about me that strikes your fancy?" He asked in a teasing tone, a smirk playing at his lips. "What makes me so worthy of a siren's power? It's your trinket, you should know, should you not?" He took another drink, tossing the map back onto the desk and removing his legs from it, spinning his chair around to more directly face her. The rain still pattered outside, the ship groaning and creaking softly as it sailed smoothly along the now settled waves.

His hair had begun to dry, its wavy texture returning its volume. His tan skin glistened softly in the dim firelight, his eyes glittering like the flames themselves. His white shirt was nearly fully unbuttoned, tousled from the vicious wind and rain from earlier, exposing his chest. Silver earrings dangled loosely from his ears, and black pants covered his lower half, completed by shiny black boots. Upon his chest was a skull tattood in black ink, a pair of crossed swords beneath it. The left side of his face held a small anchor and rope tattoo, just above his cheekbone.

It wasn't untrue that he was rather pleasing to most eyes, but never before had he been the one to fall victim to someone else's beauty. At least...not until today.