The Thought That Counts

Alan was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he heard someone pounding on the door. The fact that it was pounding and not the cultured chime from the buzzer immediately told him that it was Ian Torrens.

"Yer comin' with me," Ian said, grabbing Alan by his shirt and hoisting him out into the corridor.

"Wh- Where are we going!?" Alan said, trying to keep up with Ian, who still had hold of his shirt. His sleep-fogged mind briefly wondered if the pyreans had finally decided to enforce their "no prisoners" policy. "Where are you taking me?"

"Shut up," Ian said. "We don't have much time. I told the kid we had to dock on the next planet we came to 'cause I needed some parts for the engines. That'll give us a couple of hours, but we have to hurry or he'll suspect something. Valt's takin' care of the rest."

"The rest of what?" Alan asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"It's okay," Ian said. "I forgot about it, too, until Natalia mentioned it." Ian shoved Alan into the lift and pressed a button.

"Mentioned what?"

"It's Sven's birthday."

Alan gave a panicked look as the door swished shut.

***

"She said he's been dropping hints for weeks," Ian explained as they wandered through the busy market near the port.

"That explains a few things," Alan said. "But Jiordson never told me when his birthday is in the first place, so I don't see how he expected me to remember."

"Heh," Ian laughed. "He probably forgot that he didn't tell you."

"How very like him," Alan said. "So what now?"

"Well..." Ian shifted the large paper bag on his arm and looked down at the list. "I got everything the crew asked me pick up. I bought him something, I got Nat's present for himŠ that just leaves you."

"I wasn't aware that prisoners had to buy their pyrean captors birthday presents."

"Yeah, but this is Sven we're talking about," Ian said. "I think you should get him something." Ian's look told Alan that this was not merely a suggestion.

Alan swallowed nervously. "Er... Right... I should get him something."

Alan decided it was probably for the best anyway. If he were the only person on the Merry Swallow who didn't acknowledge Sven's birthday, he'd probably get one of Sven's sad puppy looks. Alan didn't want to live with that. And he'd have to live with it, too, since they shared quarters.

"So..." he sighed. "What exactly do you get a pirate who has everything?"

"Honestly, I think he'd be happy with almost anything," Ian said. "Just get him something. Whatever you decide, though, make it quick. We're running out of time."

Alan thought about the sorts of things they'd picked up that afternoon. A new pair of boots, some candies that Sven really liked, two small bottles of whiskey, a medium-sized bottle of whiskey, a large bottle of rum, a huge bottle of rum, and a bottle of clear liquid with a label that Alan couldn't read, but suspected was something highly alcoholic.

"Couldn't we have picked up some wine?" Alan asked, peering into the bag Ian carried.

"Tell ya what," Ian said. "When it's your birthday, we can have wine."

"Fair enough."

They stopped at several of the market's booths on the way back to the ship. Most of them sold worthless junk to gullible tourists and Alan doubted he'd find anything suitable for a gift. He picked up an old sword with a rusted blade and put it down again. He passed by a booth selling wooden bowls and another selling paperweights. He considered some brightly-colored scarves, but couldn't find one that wouldn't have clashed with Sven's hair.

He was just about to give up and deal with Ian's wrath and Sven's puppy-eyes after all when he found a stall selling books. Ah, books, Alan thought. Books were always safe. He wiped the dust off of a large leather-bound volume. It was a history book; not the most exciting birthday gift. He tried again, and grabbed a book of poetry. Better, he thought. But Sven already had a copy. The third book made him smile. Its faded cover depicted a small boy playing pirate. His wide-eyed expression reminded Alan of Sven. He flipped through the yellowed pages, old but still intact. The text was Pyrenese, and Alan could read enough of it to know it was an adventure story.

"Come on!" Ian called. "Just pick something!"

Alan took another look at the book in his hands. Oh, well, he thought. If Sven didn't like it, he could try telling Alan what he wanted next year. "What am I saying?" Alan muttered to himself. "I'll be home by then, right?" Alan shook his head. He'd have to think about that later.

"I'll take this one," he said, holding up the book.

***

Sven seemed excited, though not entirely surprised, at the group gathered in the mess hall. Alan supposed that the captain had suspected something, but he still seemed truly grateful for the attention.

Cake was served first. Ideally, the drinking wouldn't have begun until after Sven had opened his presents, but since half of Sven's presents were liquor, the drinking started as soon as the wrapping paper was off. It wasn't long before the table was strewn with half-empty bottles.

The non-drinkable gifts were saved for last. "Wow, these are great!" Sven held up a shiny new pair of boots. "Thanks, Nat!"

Eventually everyone in attendance gave Sven a present. Everyone but Alan. The book lay on his lap, wrapped in the bright blue paper Natalia had given him. Now that it came down to it, he was having second thoughts. It's such a stupid gift, Alan thought. Why didn't I just get him something practical? Why didn't I just get him a bottle of rum?

Valtra elbowed Alan in the ribs. "So didja buy the captain somethin' or are you gonna give him his gift later, in private?" Valtra leered. Alan turned red. Ian choked on his whiskey, and also his laughter. Sven was oblivious. "Huh?" he said, giving Alan that dazed look he got sometimes when he'd missed something.

Alan sighed, resigned to his doom, and held out the package. "It's nothing really... I didn't know what to get you..." he trailed off, figuring nothing he could say would make the gift suddenly transform into something else before Sven opened it. Alan looked down at the table and winced at the sound of paper tearing.

Sven was quiet, an event in and of itself so rare that it caused Alan to look up. He was staring at the book with tears pooling in his emerald-green eyes. Oh God, Alan thought. If I make Sven cry on his birthday the crew will kill me. Ian watched Sven, muscles tense, waiting. Alan wondered who would hit him first, Ian or Valtra. Probably Valtra, simply because she was sitting closer--

And then Sven launched himself at Alan, knocking the wind out of him and latching his arms around Alan's neck. The chair tipped back and Alan was glad he'd chosen a seat against the wall or they'd both have fallen in the floor. "Oh, Alan! I loved that book when I was little! I read it so much it fell apart and mom threw out the pages and I was sad for weeks and I never could find another copy 'cause it's out of print! How'd you know?"

At that point, Alan realized that Sven was straddling his lap and nuzzling him. Various crew members nudged each other. Valtra grinned. Alan made a strangling noise, mostly out of embarrassment but also because Sven was cutting off his air supply. Ian let out the breath he'd been holding and poured himself another drink.

Later on, when the party had died down to quiet conversation, Ian found Alan and decided to keep him company. He handed him a glass of whiskey, which Alan took, even though it was slightly more than he himself would have poured.

"You surprised me, Volsung," Ian said. "I didn't have you figured for the sentimental type."

"I'm really not," Alan admitted. "That was an accident. For a moment, I thought he hated it."

"Mmm," Ian hummed, taking a sip of his whiskey. "For a moment, I thought I was gonna have to hit you."

Alan laughed nervously. "Yes, so did I."

"But I'm glad I didn't have to."

"Yes," Alan said, more seriously. "So am I."

Ian smiled and gave Alan a look that was difficult to read. Alan blushed and looked away and didn't know why.

***

Much later, Sven kept his bedroom light on longer than usual so he could read his new book. Alan didn't complain. From the comfort of his own bed, he watched Sven and smiled. As he dozed off, he wondered vaguely what he'd get him for his next birthday.

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