Chapter Text
“’ello there Captain Dawderdale.” Bert’s mustache spread as he smiled.
“Afternoon, Bert. Hope you didn’t bang around too much in that turbulence we caught this morning.”
“Oh no, it’s all nice and secure down ‘ere.” Bert smiled and patted the counter. “Wealwell was just showing me his cobb salad recipe.”
Wealwell popped up from behind the counter, where a man of his stature shouldn’t have been able to hide so completely. “Well hello, Captain! I hope you don’t mind that I came by early to arrange refreshments.”
“Oh! No that’s… that’s fine.” She eyed the plates uncertainly. “We, um… should probably have something with a bit more protein as well. On the side. To keep up our strength.”
“I’ve got just the thing.” Bert pulled out a tray of jalapeno poppers, full of steaming cream cheese and wrapped in bacon.
“That’s… a bit more in the right direction.” Dawderdale smiled. “Thank you, Bert. It’s been such a treat having you onboard.”
Bert beamed.
“I am the last to arrive?” Freyja asked, stepping into the galley. “I am not late! Have you moved our meeting to an earlier time slot?”
“No, you’re not late,” Dawderdale said quickly. “You’re still early, in fact. Bert and Wealwell just made us some food.”
“Is Bert in the book club as well? I invited Torse and he refused.” Freyja frowned. “He is going to read, but did not want to join our discussion.”
“Oh, that’s – I mean, that’s fine. I really kind of just thought it would be… just us.” She glanced at Wealwell, who was smiling blissfully. “But I suppose anyone can join who wants to.”
“Of course Bert will be joining us,” Wealwell added, slapping the small man on the back.
“Oh! You’re reading Monty’s books? Can’t say I ever read ‘em, meself. Van always spoke highly of ‘em, but seemed a little embarrassed about bein’ in ‘em.” Bert chuckled. “It’s a different part of her life. She’s always been ‘umble, my Vanellope.”
“Well you’re welcome if you’d like to join us, Bert,” Dawderdale sighed, knowing that like the rest of this whole Zood mission, the book club had gotten wildly out of her hands. “I’m sure we can find another book if you want.”
“Tell you what, what if I just listen in while I’m working?” Bert suggested. “Maybe I’ll catch up with the reading later if I’ve got time. My galley quiz night didn’t catch on too well, so I might have more time for readin’.”
“The questions were all about Gath!” Freyja complained. “This is unfair to me, and to Torse!”
“And that was the night the main… er… the rest of the crew spent the night in town.”
“Just because they handle all the adventuring doesn’t mean they’re the main crew,” Wealwell pointed out, bringing over his salad bowl while Bert followed with the jalapeno poppers.
“It… kind of does.”
“Nonsense! While they’re off galivanting, we’re getting the real work done.” Wealwell sat and gestured for them to do the same. "Now, shall we eat while we discuss, or eat first while the food is fresh?”
“I… well… Oh, let’s eat first,” Dawderdale muttered. “Thank you. Both of you.”
“No worries, m’dears.” Bert smiled and went back to the kitchen. The other three sat down and filled their plates, then began to eat.
“The bacon is so crisp!” Freyja growled appreciatively as she ate.
“Mm,” Dawderdale agreed. “And… Mr. Gotch…”
“Wealwell, please. At our meetings, at least.”
“All right. Wealwell. …Your salad’s actually quite good as well.”
“Don’t sound so surprised. If a man is to stand strong, he must be well-balanced in all areas.” Wealwell smirked slightly. “I’m no chef, but I can prepare a meal now and then when needed. I think everyone could benefit from a good Biffmore education.”
“There are many great academic institutions on Gath,” Freyja murmured thoughtfully. “I would like to visit this mystical land someday.”
“If we’re ever able to get back, we can show you around,” Dawderdale said, taking one more jalapeno popper. “But for now, shall we get to the book?”
“I will say, it held up well to my childhood memories,” Wealwell noted. “Though of course it’s not quite reality.”
“Would you know how it really happened?” Dawderdale asked doubtfully.
“Oh yes, certainly for this chapter. Maxwell was there with Grandfather the day the Zephyr took flight,” Wealwell said breezily. “Monty left him out, but he was there, a strong lad of nine years. We always told each other everything.”
“But you did not go. How old were you?” Freyja asked.
“About thirteen, I believe. No, Father planned a hunting trip with the rest of us, for the entire weekend. We were gifted new clothing, new rifles, and new horses for the occasion, and we hired the most famous chef in Eisengeist to accompany us and cook our favorite meals. He said he wouldn’t allow Grandfather’s favoritism to affect us.” He paused. “Though I think we all recognized how unfair it was to Maxwell. Only Samwell spoke up, and was quickly told to shut up.”
“You did not speak up against this injustice against your favorite brother?” Freyja demanded, clenching her fists.
“I was thirteen. …I did let Max ride my horse when we got back.”
“I didn’t think young Master Gotch was much of a rider,” Dawderdale commented.
“He isn’t. He would have hated the whole thing, to be fair.” Wealwell shrugged. “But he also wasn’t important enough to be included in the book. I suppose Montgomery had to make some executive decisions there.”
“Mm, he did include Olethra briefly… but then, she’s related to Professor Macleod,” Dawderdale added.
“They all respect her so highly,” Freyja murmured. “Her missteps crush them.”
“It’s rather humbling,” Dawderdale murmured. “And a good reminder to us all, not to idolize anyone so much.”
“It’s ‘ard though, innit?” Bert spoke up from the kitchen, and they all looked up. “Van loves Professor Macleod. She’s more’n a mentor an’ a mother an’ a boss all rolled into one.” He paused. “Really ‘urt her to see another side to her ‘ero.”
“Yes, it’s… it’s quite eye-opening to meet the real thing when you’ve just thought of these people as your favorite characters for so long,” Dawderdale said softly.
“Did you find yourself disappointed with anyone?” Wealwell asked. “I found that I liked the real thing much more in every case.”
“Well to be fair, they’re twenty years older,” Dawderdale said, shaking her head. “And… they are real people, I’m not sure it’s right to be talking about them this way…”
“Montgomery is mostly the same,” Freyja said, ignoring the last part. “He is wise and kind and loves all creatures. He wrote himself most accurately!”
“You can see that he has passion for everything he does,” Wealwell agreed, taking a bite of salad. “And he’s quite supportive of others’ interests as well. I would say Marya’s changed the most.”
“Well she… she’s experienced great tragedy…” Dawderdale fidgeted and took a big bite of salad. “She’s practically a child here. I… I always wanted to be her when I was younger.”
“And you are a captain now! Just like her!”
Dawderdale snorted and shook her head. “Nothing remotely like her.”
“She was able to prove herself at such a young age,” Freyja sighed. “And so scrawny! If only it was so easy in real life! …Were there truly spies? Is this a spoiler?”
“Now now, let’s not discuss the plot twists of future books,” Wealwell said, wagging a finger.
“It does come up again, keep it in mind,” Dawderdale said eagerly. “Mr. LaMontgomery is masterful at setting up foreshadowing and narrative tension, isn’t he?”
“I’ll say.” Wealwell smiled. “That’s not the only kind of tension he’s good at, is it, Captain?”
“What other tension?” Freyja asked.
“Well that line about Daisuke’s smoldering eyes alighting not just on the Professor, and the looks that found him in return…” Wealwell’s eyebrows waggled.
“It’s a shame he doesn’t describe Haunch, Sylvio, and Onion as well in this chapter,” Dawderdale said quickly.
“I think that Sylvio is the villain, is that right?” Freyja asked. “He speaks in such a sinister way! Is he the spy?”
“Don’t ask about how it turns out, you have to read and discover it on your own!” Dawderdale said.
“Yes, but remember, Montgomery is a fine writer,” Wealwell spoke up. “The villain is never who you think.”
“I see.” Freyja nodded.
“But back to Daisuke, what did you think of him?” Wealwell demanded. “Quite the dashing rogue, hm?”
“Yes, he is a fast scoundrel,” Freyja agreed.
“You know most of the crew’s fallen in love with him at one time or another.”
“Yes?”
“Oh yes, some more than once.” Wealwell chuckled. “Have you joined our ranks in that yet?”
“No. Mr. Bucklesby is not my type. I prefer Van Chapman, of all the characters.”
“She’s amazing,” Dawderdale agreed with a sigh. “I would love to… to be like her. I wanted to be Marya when I was younger, but now I would give anything to be like Van. She’s so confident, she always knows what to do…”
“You certainly don’t hesitate to jump to any order she gives,” Wealwell chuckled.
“She’s – she’s Van Chapman,” Dawderdale protested.
“And you are a captain,” Freyja pointed out loyally. “But she is very powerful. Big and tall and brawny. I also wish to be so strong…”
“She certainly has a commanding presence,” Dawderdale sighed. Then she looked up. “Sorry, Bert. We shouldn’t be talking about your wife.”
“Oh, there’s no question my lovey’s the strongest one around.” Bert smiled, bringing out an aioli flight for each of them. “And she’s spoken so ‘ighly of Wealwell an’ Captain Dawderdale. She was so ‘appy to have you aboard too, Freyja.”
“Ah!” Freyja caught her breath, as Dawderdale’s eyes glowed with pride and Wealwell nodded in satisfaction. “I will do all I can to make her proud!”
“I… really, she spoke highly of me?” Dawderdale whispered. “It’s just… she’s always… rather… harsh.”
“Oh that’s just my sweet Vanellope’s way,” Bert chuckled. “She’s a tough one. I’ll let you in on a secret, though!” He leaned in close to her. “Means she knows you can take it. Means she sees something in you and wants you to be your best.”
“D-do you think… I could be a real adventurer like her?” Dawderdale breathed, trembling.
“Course you can.” Bert patted her shoulder softly. “You already are! Look at you, in Zood already! Don’t be so ‘ard on yourself, Captain.”
Dawderdale’s eyes filled with tears, and it took her a moment to be able to speak. “…Thank you,” she whispered.
“You know what I appreciate most about Van?” Wealwell asked, stirring his aioli slowly with a stirring rod topped with a palm tree. “She’s always willing to include others. She let me walk the plank and stand with her early on. She’s always supportive to the rest of the crew. She does push you to do better, Captain Dawderdale. Even back then, she offered to take Maxwell up into the rigging. …He refused, of course. Grandfather forbade it. But she did offer.”
“Do you think she could teach me to become more formidable, even at my size?” asked Freyja as Dawderdale wiped her eyes.
“You show her you’re willing and my lovey’ll never give up on you,” Bert assured her.
“You are fortunate to have such a magnificent spouse. Perhaps one day, if I improve, I will be worthy of such a magnificent woman.”
“Ohhhhh, that’s your type,” Wealwell mused.
“I would not covet the woman who is Bert’s wife, and who is so far out of my league, as you say!”
“I never said that!” Wealwell said, holding up his hands.
“No worries, dearie.” Bert chuckled. “I know what you see in ‘er! Can’t imagine ‘ow anybody wouldn’t fall in love with my lovey. I’m the luckiest man on Gath. …Or in Zood, I’d say!”
“Truly,” Freyja agreed solemnly.
“Well!” Dawderdale said, standing up abruptly. “Unfortunately I have some work I can’t put off any longer, I… Terribly sorry to leave so quickly, but I… I do have a job to do and I… I’ll see you all tomorrow.” She hurried out of the galley, thankful she’d been able to keep her voice steady.
“Well!” Wealwell clapped. “That was a productive meeting, I think. Now that we’ve gotten these character comparisons out of the way, the next chapter will be more action-packed.”
“Excellent.” Freyja stood up. “This gossip is useful and entertaining, but it is not our purpose at these meetings.”
“Do you think we should start a Gossip Club?” Wealwell asked, idly wiping his finger around the inside of his aioli shot and then licking it off. “I think attendance would be much higher.”
“You may do what you want. I think they would not appreciate it.”
“Oh you’re no fun.” Wealwell waved her off. “Go on. Same time tomorrow, don’t be late!”
“I will never be late!”
Wealwell watched her go, then leaned back in his chair. “So, Bert, if you had a shot with anyone on the ship, who would you choose?”
Bert looked up for a moment, then chuckled. “Aside from my Van? Daisuke Bucklesby. No question. Van and I’ve discussed it.”
“I knew I liked you, Bert.”