Uncharted Waters

Port Aris had once been a bustling save haven for criminals. Pirates would come from all over the world to stay there. Over the years, the number of these pirates had greatly died down. Many had abandoned their ruthless names, and their families were still happily settled in Port Aris. The port town was chock full of incredible history, but Link wasn't allowed to leave his desk.

He tightly gripped his pen and kept one hand nervously tangled in his hair as he read over his notes again. And again. And again. Meanwhile, the rest of his team was in another room of the small house they'd acquired for their stay in Port Aris, splitting a bottle of rum and being just a little too loud. They were busy doing nothing productive, yet when they found yet another port that didn't have any information about what they were looking for, it was all Link's fault. Of course, no one forced him to join a team of rowdy international explorers. They may have led glamorous lives of parties and champagne, but they were Links only way out of his parent's home.

Eventually, he was fed up, slamming his book shut and setting it aside. He moved into the main room they were all in and nodded to the team leader, Eric. Eric raised a brow at him, moving away from the others to drunkenly sling an arm around Link's shoulders.

"Link! Have a drink!" he said a little too loudly.

Another team member, Catherine, started pouring a glass for Link, but he politely declined.

"Actually, I was going to go to bed," he said. "So I can wake up tomorrow and bury my nose in books that make no sense again, like the useless waste of space you people seem to think I am."

"Nonsense!" Eric exclaimed. "Daniel, tell him it's nonsense!"

"He just said it was nonsense," Daniel snickered. "You know, I heard the people in New York had sticks up their rear ends, but I didn't think it was this severe."

"I'm not from New York," Link muttered. "Boston. I'm from Boston."

"How did the sticks get up there?" Gunther, the medic, slurred.

"It's a simile," Andrew told him.

"Metaphor," Link corrected.

Everyone went silent, staring at him blankly.

"To say I have a 'stick up my ass', it's a metaphor," Link explained. "To say it's like I have a 'stick up my ass' would be a simile. But you phrased it like a metaphor. Because there's no actual, physical stick up my... Never mind."

"Have a drink, Link," Eric insisted.

Catherine broke out into laughter. "Drink, Link!"

Everyone started laughing at the rhyme, and Link just rolled his rolled his eyes and walked away, up the stairs to where the rooms were. As annoying as the others on his team were, Link could survive it as long as they were staying in a house. When they'd been in the tropics at the start of their journey, living in tents while mosquitos attacked Link's arms and legs, it had been his personal hell. When he made the mistake of asking why they only bit him and no one else, all four of them started laughing, making comments about how lanky he was and how he was the least threatening out of all of them.

In the house, at least, Link had his own room. He set his glasses on the side table and flopped face first into the pillow, letting it muffle his loud groan. When they said they needed a researcher for their team, he hadn't expected it to be this. He thought he'd be out adventuring with them, and seeing the world. So far, he'd been traveling, only to be sitting at a desk reading the same books over and over until his eyes got sore.

He fell asleep quickly, waking up to the sound of a fist pounding on his door. He fell out of his bed in surprise, quickly pulling his clothes back on and running a hand through his disheveled brown curls before swinging the door open. Eric was standing there, in a rather bad mood. Not that Link was surprised. Eric had been very, very drunk the night before.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," he sighed. "Do you have the information I asked you for."

Link nodded, grabbing some papers off of his desk and handing them to Eric.

"There's rumors about several families here," Link explained. "Most of them are in the upper class. I imagine that if any of them have the jewel, it has been made into some form of accessory. Maybe keep an eye out for brooches or necklaces. And don't make yourself too obvious, or they'll shun you. The jewel should look like-"

"Yes, yes," Eric interrupted. "It's all in the notes. I can read."

He started to walk away, but Link awkwardly cleared his throat to get his attention again.

"Yes, Lincoln?" Eric asked impatiently.

"Can I... Uh... Come with you guys?" Link asked.

Eric raised an eyebrow, shaking his head with a sigh. "Look, you're a good kid, but you're just not built for this kind of work. You're a much bigger help to us here, with all of your research. We wouldn't be anywhere without you. You know that."

Link reluctantly sat down, looking down at his feet and making Eric roll his eyes.

"Come on, don't give me any of that," he said. "If you want to get out of the house, get us some food. And more liquor."

Eric handed Link a little money, leaving before Link could protest. He just sighed and stuffed the money into his pocket, angrily pulling on his boots. He waited until the door shut and the house when silent before cleaning himself up and getting ready to go out to the marketplace.

"You're not built for it, Link," he said to his reflection in the mirror, puffing out his chest and mocking Eric's deep voice. "You're just the brains, Link. Go get us some food for the week, Link. Go get us some liquor, Link. Boston and New York are the same place, Link. Hey Link, if I have ten apples and Andrew scarfs down eight of them, does that leave me with five apples?"

He kicked a pillow on the floor on his way out careful not to slam the door too hard.

"Damn right they need me," Link grumbled. "They'd probably forget how to breathe if I wasn't here to remind them. Meanwhile, they're using me to wipe their-"

Link froze as he went outside, glancing around as if he expected his mother to be behind him. Upon realization that she was halfway across the world and couldn't hear him if he cursed, he just smirked and started on his way again.

"Ass. They're using me to wipe their ass."

At that moment, a mother with her young child passed by, giving Link a dirty look and making him blush as he hurried along. Maybe it was for the best if he stopped talking to himself in public. He just kept his head down and got what he needed to get, in a bad mood the whole time. When he got home again, he huffed and looked around. Was he really going to stay home like some oppressed little housewife and wait for the big, strong ones to come home? No. He wasn't going to stand for it. This port was full of history, and he was missing out on it all. He could practically see his father crossing his arms and shaking his head in disappointment.

He dug through the desk drawer and fished out his personal field journal, tucking in some loose papers and putting a pen behind his ear so he could use his free hand to straighten out his vest and tie. He felt a little rebellious walking out without permission, but what did he need permission for anyways? Link was a grown man. He didn't need Eric's approval to do things.

He opened up his journal and flipped through the notes as he walked, weaving between crowds of people in the busy marketplace he'd visited earlier. As aware as he thought he was of his surroundings, he didn't notice the person right in front of him. He slammed into the figure, sending them both falling to the ground and the loose papers in his journal flying all over the place. Yeah, maybe Link couldn't step out his front door before ruining something, after all.