That night he was restless. Perhaps it was the wind buffeting the ship outside, perhaps it was the rain that pelted them all through the night, but whatever it was Archer found himself completely incapable of falling to sleep. He'd screwed his eyes shut and desperately tried to force himself to nod off for nearly an hour now, but in all honesty it only seemed to wake him up more, which was annoying. There was something that wouldn't let his mind settle, something in his gut that told him he really should have put two and two together by now. There was something he was obviously missing, and the annoying bit was that he would likely not be awake right now had it not been for one throwaway comment that Michael had made yesterday:

"Doesn't he seem... I don't know, familiar, to you?"

It shouldn't have stuck with him, and he hadn't given it much thought at the time, but the trouble was that he really did. He really did feel familiar in a homely, kind sort of way. His manner of speaking as well; though Archer couldn't recall ever hearing someone that sounded like Cooke, the man's way of speaking and his almost constant sunshine attitude really was familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd damn well heard it before and it was driving him mad.

He'd noticed as well that Lawrence was acting more and more deferential to Talon, asking them for more and more advice on leadership, on dealing with people in ways that caused less friction and allowed for a more constructive dialogue than his usual iron-rod demeanour would allow. Lawrence hadn't changed much in tone or tact, and Archer suspected he never really would, but at the very least the crew seemed a little less intimidated by him now that they realised they weren't liable to be shouted down or otherwise glared at by their new captain for offering an alternative opinion. That by itself had gained his friend some small measure of popularity amongst those in the crew who previously hadn't thought much of him besides the caricature he'd been painted as, and as such there was a little less tension in the air as of late.

But that still didn't answer his questions. How did Cooke know this sort of thing? How had he been able to study medical practices as a hobby without bankrupting his family? Surely he must have been born into a position of quite some privilege to be able to pursue such fancies, but if that were the case then how had he ended up on a four-decade old frigate? Was it something to do with the Battle of the Carronade Pass? Cooke... who are you? Was he some sailor from a noble family in search of adventure with the hopes to make a name for himself like Michael, who had then gone on to serve at the Pass and been rescued by the Sunbird?

But then if that was the case, why was he acting as a simple chef? Cooke had to have come from a wealthy or well-connected family, there was no way he'd have been able to study medicine otherwise, and he did seem to be rather well-learned when it came to dealing with his fellow man, with recognising talents and trying to make sure things ran as they should. After all, it had been Talon who had all but ensured the First Mate could keep his position. Lawrence had even confided in Archer and stated that, had it been left up to him alone, it would be Cooke in the captain's chair and Lawrence himself as the mere First Mate. Why? Why was Lawrence, easily the single most senior figure aboard the ship given the fact he was born aboard her decks, acting so deferential to the man who cooked their meals? Cooke was a great friend, and Archer would gladly have followed him anywhere, but a captain? Over Lawrence? That seemed almost absurd!

It felt like all the pieces were in place, like he had every part of the puzzle charted out and the image was in front of him, but his vision was blurred. He knew Cooke, he could feel it in his soul. The same way Michael had, confusedly, stated that he knew Cooke but didn't know where from. They knew Cooke before they'd ever met him, but how? Lawrence had warned him against digging into the man's past, and even claimed that Cooke may be taken away if people realised he was here, but why? Had he committed some sort of heinous crime?

Archer thought about that possibility for a few seconds, then snorted where he lay. Cooke? A vicious criminal? Yeah, all right, and if that were true then Archer was the missing prince.

Something about that thought sent a jolt of lightening through him, a voice deep in his head screaming that he was so close to the answer. Archer pressed a pillow over the top of his own face and let out a frustrated groan. What was it he was missing? What was he so close to figuring out? Far more importantly, why the bloody hell was it so important that he couldn't he get to-

Oh. Oh.

Oh fuck. That was... God, that couldn't be right. Could it? It would certainly explain a lot but... no, surely not?

Archer's eyes shot open and he sat up in his bed. Fuck! How didn't I realise sooner? The two of them were... Cooke was kind, he'd had a wealthy upbringing, he didn't want anyone to find him, he... God, he even had the same sunshine mannerisms! How had he not realised sooner?

He needed to talk to Cooke right now, no matter the fact it was so late. Or early, he supposed.

No, he couldn't talk to him at the moment. It wouldn't be right of him to wake the man at this ungodly hour. Besides, he was sharing a room with Lawrence at the moment until the two of them were 'absolutely sure the threat from rogue elements of the crew has been sorted out and everything is back to normal'. He made a quick note so he wouldn't forget by the morning, and tried to get back to sleep. It was very, very difficult with the realisation rattling around his head, and so he spoke his words softly into the void, hoping that by giving voice to the thought it might finally leave him alone and get some sleep. With what he now knew though, he sort of doubted he'd be getting any sleep tonight.

"Fuck," he whispered to no-one in particular, "Talon's the Crown Prince."

----------------------------------------

That morning couldn't come quick enough. He'd hurriedly readied himself for the day, knowing full well that he needed to talk to the prince, to his friend, before even attempting to do anything else. In private, of course; if Cooke wanted this to remain a secret, then Archer would comply. Oh, the reward from the royal family would set him up for life, his parents as well, but-

But what? Was he really going to put the happiness of his friend above his parent's financial security?

He shook his head, disgusted at himself for even thinking of violating the wishes of one of the kindest people he'd ever met, one of the truest friends he'd ever known. Besides, if his mother found out that was where the money had come from she'd never forgive him. He hadn't realised it but he must have been chewing his lip, for a little droplet of blood ran down his chin. He quickly wiped it away with his sleeve and knocked on his boss' door, where he knew the target of his conversation lay. Lawrence's bed, which led directly out to the ship's walkways, was already open and empty, so he knew his two friends were likely enjoying an early morning conversation within. He hated to intrude, but this... this was important. He needed to get confirmation of this right from the horse's mouth. It wouldn't be fair on Cooke any other way.

"Ah, Mr Haywood, good morning. You're here earlier than normal."

Lawrence's voice was tired, because when was that man not tired, but still relatively chipper for being so early. It made him feel all the more guilty for needing to break apart the morning like this.

"Archer? Are you alright?"

"Hm?"

He blinked a few times, realising he still hadn't answered his boss' greeting, nor his other friend's question.

"I- I don't-"

His breathing quickened as he looked between the two men, the taste of copper and iron on his tongue. He must be chewing his lip again. He hadn't done that in years. More to the point, why couldn't he stop? Why wasn't his body responding? What was-

"Easy, easy. Hey, you're all right. Come in, please. What's the matter?"

He was silent a few more seconds, save his erratic breathing. Cooke stepped forwards and placed a hand on his own, looking at him sympathetically.

"Hey, don't worry. Try to match my breathing, okay? In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Do you think you could do that? Here, I'll do it with you. Follow my lead."

The man squeezed his hand a little, and began breathing slowly and deliberately. Archer did his best to match his pace, eventually finding that the repetitive actions were in fact calming him down, at least enough that he was no longer finding his own body to be non-receptive to his commands. He nodded once at Cooke, doing his best to convey his thanks through his eyes and hoping that the man could tell how grateful he was, which made him feel guilty all over again.

"Don't worry, Archer. Panic attacks happen to the best of us. Would you feel comfortable telling me exactly what it was that got you so worked up you began to feel panicky?"

Archer went to shake his head almost on impulse, before slowly nodding.

"Yes," he said in a quiet whisper, "I think I would. I need to, anyway."

Talon nodded once, smiling.

"Well, I'm all ears!"

Lawrence smiled a little off to the side, looking a strange combination of awkward at not helping and proud of Talon for the assistance he had provided Archer. Archer gave Talon his best level stare, hoping not to convey too much emotion one way or the other and startle the kind man, but given his current state he wasn't sure exactly how it came across. Nonetheless this was the one time he felt as though he'd have the courage not to bottle this conversation, and so he steeled himself and began to speak.

"Cooke. We need to talk."

The man looked at him, confused and a little concerned.

"Well... of course! That's what we're doing right now, silly!"

Archer did his best not to smile at the man's infectious good natured reply, and instead tried to keep as straight a face as possible. Cooke soon noticed this, and his face fell a little.

"That kind of talk, huh?"

Archer nodded. He really didn't want to grill Cooke over this, but he just needed an answer since this was a big deal if his gut feeling was correct. I mean, it has to be correct. It all lines up too well.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"I know."

"You know? What do you know?"

Archer closed his eyes and sighed. It wasn't fair of him to try and keep his emotions out of this conversation. He did his best to try and relax a little, to try and put Cooke at ease with his body language.

"Mr Haywood, is there something the matter with Talon's work? With his conduct?"

Archer whipped around at Lawrence.

"What? Of course not! He's one of the kindest, hardest working people aboard the Sunbird! Who said he wasn't? I'll have words with them, and no mistake!"

Lawrence looked at him for a moment, stolid, before a smile came across his face.

"Just trying to work out where your thoughts were, Archer. If it's all the same with the two of you, I'll just step outside for a moment."

"Are you sure, Lawrie?"

Archer was taken aback a little by the anxiety in Talon's voice. The last thing he wanted was to scare the man, even if Archer was admittedly a little scattered at the moment.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Talon. But I need to talk with you about this. Please?"

Talon looked at him for a few moments before nodding shakily. Archer knew that the man trusted him, and for that he was glad. More than glad, in fact, and he would never seek to take advantage of this trust. He just needed his answer, then that trust would be returned a hundredfold.

"Okay, Archer. I'll be alright, Lawrie."

Lawrence looked back at the two of them, giving them a warm and fond smile.

"I know. I'll be just outside if you need me, but you won't. I think I know exactly what is about to be discussed, and it isn't my place to intrude. Please let me back in when you're done."

With that he turned and walked out, ignoring the playful "Maybe!" that the two of them almost echoed back at him. They smiled at each other, and lapsed into a momentary silence again. It took Archer a little time to gather his thoughts again and work out what exactly to say, but he knew it didn't matter. The thoughts may have been new, but he'd never been so sure of anything in his life.

"It's you, isn't it? Seven years they've been looking for you, Talon, and here you were the whole time."

Talon tensed a little, seemingly just on impulse upon reading between the lines of what had been said, before he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He slowly exhaled, then opened his eyes. His doe-eyes were full of conviction, of surety. It was as if he were trying to convince himself that Archer wished him no ill-will, which was of course the truth, but the fact that he even needed to convince himself of it was heart-wrenching all on its own.

"Yes."

Archer let out a shaky exhale, sliding down in his chair.

"I don't want you to think I see you in any other way, Talon. I really mean it. I just... no, never mind."

Talon shook his head, smiling softly.

"Thank you for the affirmation, it honestly makes me feel that this conversation will go a lot smoother than I'd feared. I don't want to lose you as a friend, Archer. To have you either try and turn me over or even worse, begin treating me like royalty and placing me on a pedestal above yourself would... it would honestly hurt me so much."

Archer looked at him, acting with intentions as honest as he had ever known in his life. He placed his hand atop one of his friend's and relayed as much of his admiration as he physically could through his words.

"Cooke, you've always been on a pedestal to me. I admire you so much. You never let the world beat you down, you've saved myself and Lawrence from certain death, and despite the fear you must have been feeling you didn't once hesitate to jump into the face of danger to stand up for someone, or to stop something that would have been wrong to let happen. You're so brave, Talon, and so, so kind. If I could emulate even a fraction of what makes you so special then I'd say my life was well lived, damn whatever blood runs in my veins or in yours. You're special anyway."

Talon was visibly holding back tears at that, and for a moment Archer feared he'd said the wrong thing, but then Talon launched himself forwards and tackled him in one of the messiest, awkward, and best hugs he'd ever been given.

"You're so nice, Archer!"

Cooke's voice was broken up and wracked by sobs, but the man assured him that they were tears of happiness and not sadness, so Archer just pulled him tighter and squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck, why did he want to cry as well? This changed nothing between him and Cooke, their friendship would have remained strong no matter the answer, but there was something about knowing who he really was, about knowing exactly who he was speaking to and it not mattering in the slightest because this was Talon Cooke and would always be Talon Cooke, that made him feel special. Privileged. He hadn't been lying when he said that if he could emulate Cooke in the slightest then he would call his life well lived.

"I take it only Lawrence knows? How come no-one else knows?"

Cooke gave him a sad smile.

"There used to be others. All the officers of the Sunbird saved me when the Leviathan went down, but that crew is all gone now, each one of them taking my secret to the grave. Only Lawrence is left now. He's the only man of the old crew left. Crowle came aboard to replace his father and was never told, but by that point most of them had died anyway. No-one else on board knows about me anymore, except for him and now for you. I suspect at some point you'll want to turn me over for the reward? I know I don't have much compared to such a grand sum, but I'll give you whatever I have if you promise to keep it a secret."

The lost prince's voice dropped to a whisper, and moisture seemed to be building at the corners of his eyes as he finished speaking.

"Please don't make me leave the Sunbird. Don't make me leave Lawrence. Please"

Overcome by emotion Archer rushed forwards and wrapped Cooke back in the tightest bear hug he could remember giving anyone.

"You don't need to offer me anything, Cooke. I don't know how you haven't gotten it drilled into you that I don't intend to take that choice from you yet, but I promise you I would never do that to you. You've done so much for me already, you've been such a true friend, I would never do anything to strip you of autonomy. I promise you here and now, your secret will always be safe with me."

Cooke nodded once, smiling with tear-stained cheeks.

"Thank you. I... I will go home, one day. Soon, I think. Very soon. But I needed it to be when I was ready. I couldn't live my life as someone else, Archer. I needed to leave, and the Sunbird gave me that opportunity. Lawrence, Crowle's father, the entire old crew gave me that opportunity. I owe the Sunbird a debt that all the wealth of Albion couldn't repay, but I can give them my gratitude. I hope that will be enough."

Archer smiled at him, some small spark of hope he hadn't realised had gone out years prior rekindling at the man's affirmation that he would, one day, take the throne.

"It will always be enough, Talon. It has always been enough. Whatever you want to give, it is enough."

Talon nodded, drying his eyes and smiling. They'd both said all they needed to say.

"Lawrence, you can come back in now!"

The man walked in, a little startled by the tear-streaks down both of their faces, but softening at their smiles.

"I take it he knows?"

Talon nodded.

"Yeah, he knows. He's fine with things as they are as well. Says it changes nothing."

Lawrence's lips twitched upwards at that, the beginnings of a smile forming on his face.

"Excellent news. I wish I could stay and help answer any questions you may have, Archer, but I'm afraid I've been called to meet with the First Mate as well as the Gunnery Officer and Sergeant. An important report has just come in, so I've heard."

Archer nodded at him, mock-saluting.

"Good luck having Talwynn and Stefan in the same room. They get on like a house on fire."

Talon pressed the back of a hand to his mouth to stifle a chuckle at Archer's words.

"I will keep your advice in mind, Assistant Engineer. Mind that your tone does not get too familiar, it would be most unbecoming."

Lawrence's tone indicated that he was only joking, and as such Talon spoke up, giggling as he did so.

"He can do what he likes, he has royal favour now!"

Lawrence shook his head.

"One conversation and now you're able to joke about it. Lord help me when I get you home."

----------------------------------------

When he came back the news he bore was not good, Archer could tell just by the look on his face. He hadn't been gone for long, perhaps only twenty minutes, but his face was hard-set and grim. It was a far cry from how he'd been before he left. When he spoke his tone was harsh, but not aimed at them. He obviously had heard some very stressful news, and so Archer elected to simply remain quiet and let his friend say what he needed to say. Talon made to speak, but Archer gently laid a hand on his arm and shook his head. Lawrence needed to tell them whatever it was he'd found without them side-tracking him right now. It felt a little surreal; here he was, the son of two estate-servants, a manservant himself, and he was asking a prince to be silent. For a brief moment he was sure he must be dreaming, but the nod of understanding that Cooke gave him was far too real for that.

"I've just finished speaking with Talwynn and Rickard. There are rebels blocking our passage from Occsa to Gaul. We'll need to go straight through them if we want to avoid retracing our path back through the Greenbush Mortuary."

"Is that so terrible? One rebel ship can't stop us."

Lawrence shook his head grimly.

"It isn't one ship, it's a flotilla, and one headed by Commodore Greyfax at that. He'll recognise the Sunbird as soon as we get within sight of him, and then he'll never let us escape."

"Greyfax? Should I know who that is?"

Talon swallowed, audibly gulping.

"Well, Commodore Greyfax is... a little extreme, even amongst the rebels. He was at the Carronade Pass, and although he survived and watched the Leviathan go down he's never given up on hunting me. He hates my family, and wants to be the one who... well, the one who takes my life. Personally. He's never believed I'm dead, no matter how much time has passed since that terrible day. Is there no other way, Lawrence?"

Lawrence shook his head sadly.

"It will be better to die outnumbered and outgunned than because of an overgrown tree. There can be no other way, Talon. I am sorry."

Talon looked between Archer, then Lawrence. He repeated the motion a few times, clearly lost in thought and thinking a great deal on the words he was about to say. When he did eventually speak, his words held such gravitas, such presence, that Archer was amazed he hadn't realised this man was the missing crown prince far sooner.

"Okay. Captain Lawrence Walker, as an officer of the Royal Albionic Navy, you are duty-bound to see me home. To see me to my family. The task of ensuring that I may take up my roles as the crown prince of all Albion and Ewyng, the chosen Laird of Pictriu, and the heir of Hithin, rests entirely upon your shoulders."

Lawrence and Archer were stunned into silence for a moment. When Lawrence did speak he sounded as though he had heard a ghost, which likely wasn't far from the truth. When was the last time Talon had sounded so... regal? Long before Archer had met him, and judging by Lawrence's face, it had been quite some time for him as well.

"Are you sure, Talon?"

Talon nodded once, eyes filled with emotion, and Lawrence immediately stood ramrod straight. If Archer thought Talon's words had been filled with conviction, then Lawrence's were on another level entirely.

"Very well, your Majesty. I will see you home to your family. I swear it. You will make it home, I promise."

Talon nodded again, his voice now shed of its regal aspect and instead returning to its normal, emotion-filled tone.

"Thank you, Lawrie. I promise this is the right time. You've done so much for me in the clouds, you've given me the knowledge of who I am, but I need to go back home. I need to return to the palace."

Lawrence nodded stiffly, looking askance at Archer.

"Is this choice entirely your own?"

Talon nodded, grasping one of Archer's hands with his own.

"Yes. Archer didn't try and sway me one way or the other. He never mentioned the reward, he never mentioned my duties or anything like that. He just wanted me to know he'd never see me as anything other than who I was. That helped me make this decision."

"How so?"

Talon sighed sadly.

"I left my old life behind because there was no-one who saw me as just me. I was the prince. I was the heir. But you two don't see me that way, even though you know who I am. That's all I need. So long as I can go forwards knowing that there are just two people who love me for who I am, not what I am, then I can be happy. Even if our paths split apart."

Lawrence nodded sadly, but still somehow with an undercurrent of happiness.

"You've accepted yourself for who you are, at last."

"I have."

The captain sighed, looking down.

"Then it is done. Do you still have your locket?"

Cooke nodded.

"Of course. I'd never forgive myself if I lost it."

"Then with your permission I'd like you to present it to the rest of the officers in a meeting today. I think I have the beginnings of a plan, but I need everyone on side, and the only way to ensure that is if they know your blood."

Talon squirmed, obviously a little uneasy at the others knowing who he was, but nodded.

"It's only fair if they're to fight to see me home. They deserve to know, and to be rewarded as well. I'll do it."

Archer found himself nodding, for some reason, and spoke up. The words sounded right to him, even as he spoke them without thinking.

"We'll see you home, Talon. Even if we have to bloody well walk across the sea, we'll see you home."