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Chapter Text

The wind blew bitter and harshly as the waves climbed over the shore, sloshing and hissing over each other as the sea foam sprayed the golden sand. The sharp sting of the sea salt in the air burned at his lungs as he inhaled sharply the scent of the sea. Something he was once so familiar with, yet now had become a bittersweet memory of his youth.

Arthur Walkins, was a high ranking naval officer, above any of this. However recently, in a sea town many miles away from base, a criminal network has emerged and though he's sent other officers to deal with it, no one has even come close to capturing the organisation, therefore, he was left to go to try and scout it out himself.

The local police and lifeguards had offered their services in case he needed them, but of course, if he couldn't find anything, then they were useless. He spends weeks in this quaint little village on the coast, but he has made no breakthroughs. He was no better than his subordinate navy members who were sent here before him.

He spends ages lingering and trying to think of anything else he could do; but he was stumped until a young boy, the son of one of the police officers, curiously approaches him while he sat impatiently waiting in the station.

“Sir..?” the boy mumbled as Arthur sat on a bench, much to old to be stable to hold more thna the two of them.

“What is it kid.” He snapped.

The boy flinches slightly but slid to sit on the bench next to him.

“My mama says you're trying to help them hunt the bad people using the ocean…but you can't find them.”

Arthur grumbles in response, not pleased to be reminded of his recent failures and the whole reason he was stumped and stuck here.

He hated this stupid coast town.

“Have you tried talking to the lighthouse keeper? He's really nice and he knows a lot about the sea…” The boy was muttering by now avoiding eye contact at all costs by fiddling with the hands of the blue teddy plushie he was holding in his arms.

Arthur nodded absent mindedly before standing up, stretching his back with a disturbing crack, before grabbing the boys hand and guiding him back to his mother, of course after sharing a few sea snacker crackers* with him, (the boy had insisted he eat all the seals, since he “looked like one”. He found this amusing considering he was a naval officer, but of course the boy was oblivious to the accidental joke he had made.

After a few more days he decided to make the journey up the steep hill and look into this ‘helpful’ yet mysterious lighthouse keeper who ,supposedly, was so well versed in marine life. Arthur hated asking for help, but he was stumped and without a choice. With nothing to lose but his dignity, he makes his way up the winding cliff to the lighthouse.

The journey was certainly tiring, a steep hill that cut off into a cliff overlooking the sea. Dangerous and violent waves crashed against the rock, and Arthur could imagine that When the tide was high, the water would splash the road. But today the sea was calm. Relaxed and soft. A gentle kiss to the shore as fishing boat horns echoed through the beach and entered the harbour. By the time Arthur got to the top of the hill, hiebknees ached and he cursed his old bones for feeling achy.

The lighthouse was a word red and white striped pattern, stereotypical with peeling paint and kelp barnacles growing and winding all the way up, climbing its side; a result of the sea air and its relentless attack on what stands in its way. Some might assume it was run down or out of use, but as the sun set, its fluorescent light began its journey spinning around, illuminating the air and disappearing off into the distance. It was all but clear that it was active, and there was in fact someone inside. Arthur took the light illumination as his cue to knock. He opened the rusted metal gate of the garden and pushed it wide. The incessant screeching and groaning of the metal burned his ears, and like a shrill scream had been emitted he walked down the stone cobbled path quickly. He approached the door, rapping his knuckles against the decaying wood he could only assume was rotting loudly.

A few seconds passed, and an eerie silence consumed him, only broken by the tides crashing against the rocks and the odd screech of a seagull. Eventually the door creaked open, and a man with dark brown hair and strips, dyed a light blue appeared, wearing a baggy, knitted woolen jumper and a white knitted cardigan. He stood high and firm his back straight, although compared to Arthur he barely reached his chin, he was quite a few inches shorter. “Hello sir, how can i help you?” his voice was soft and polite enough, although Arthur could feel the underlying annoyance that hid between the lines and in the creases between the man's eyebrows

He grimaced at the idea of a younger man being able to help him, but then again, he had taken a child's advice to come here in the first place. So he took a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air steadily, before clearing his throat and speaking with a crisp and mildly bitter voice. “I was told I could find help here.” he tried to force a polite smile although it seemed to no avail as the man's expression fell more and his nose seemed to crease and twitch in annoyance, matching his eyebrows.

“Help? What with.” the man practically spat, a quick switch From his previous polite facade, if you could even call it that.

“I'm currently working on an investigation associated with this town, could I come in?” arthur began-

“I don't have guests,” the man scowled, “and I don't get involved with police things. It's not my job and I don't care for it. What do you want from me? Be direct, or leave.”

Arthur's face became dejected and curled into a frustrated scowl at the man's snappy and reluctant words, however he tried to continue politely, no longer bothering to hide his stern annoyance any longer.

“It involves a criminal organisation working in the area. They mainly use the oceans to travel and distribute their ‘goods’. And since they're using the seas, they're able to hide from the authorities rather well.”

The man's eyes narrowed and he scowled “you're not from the town's police force.” He said bluntly, not acknowledging anything the naval officer had just said. He was now leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and expression already bored.

“Where are you from.”

Arthur noticed the change in the man's gaze; he observed him, growing suspicious of arthur, however he had expected this by the man's…Unwillingness to help…

“I'm not,” he admitted. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small official ID and badge “I'm a commander in the royal navy.”

The lighthouse keeper glanced down at the badge before taking a deep breath and sighing. “And what can i help you with…” he sounded uninterested as he spoke, but at least now he was offering his help rather than just straight questioning him. The man's lack of hostility reassured Arthur as he slipped the badge back into his pocket and crossed his arms over his broad chest; he may be older than he once was, but he was still firm and built with muscle.

“You're knowledgeable on the seas and marine life aren't you? Especially in this area.” the officer stated. “This criminal organization has eluded my subordinates many times and so I was sent to try and arrest them once and for all.However I need someone who knows the local area and the docks well to first find which ships are supplying, and where their base may hide. That's where you come in. I was told you could assist”

The man scoffed. “And who told you that?” he was grinning wickedly, eyes lidded with deep bags. Arthur had only just noticed the lighter patches of skin splotched around on the man's tanned build.

“A local.”

He was being vague. This guy had no right to know who had brought him here. It's totally not because it would be embarrassing that a navy commander was so hopelessly lost in a case, he took the word of a child instead.

“They said you were well versed in the area and its sea life. And an intelligent man too.” that's right arthur, charm him.

“Yes…” the man said slowly, calculating. “I study the marine biology of the area, but as a hobby.” He suddenly snapped. “I'm just the lighthouse keeper and I don't know what I can do to help you and even if I did, I don't believe I have any reason, to help you.”

This man's snarky attitude was rather entertaining for Arthur, though it was quickly getting old.

“As the lighthouse keeper, do you have any interaction with the ships that dock?”

“I monitor and record them.”

Arthur's face lit up as if he'd just discovered the crack in the case that he could pry open to find the fruit. “Well that's exactly what I need! The records of what ships have docked in and out the bay. All the names, the times they dock, the times they leave and what cargo they carry!”

The man scowled, but put on a frustrated smile “I'm afraid that's private information and I can't give that out to strangers sir.” he grinned in a way that made Arthur's heart drop to the bottom of the ocean.

The brief light and hope in Arthur's eyes quickly disappeared the moment his words registered and he let his anger get the better of him for a moment “your kidding?!” he huffed clenching his fists “ i'm not a stranger in a commander of the navy-”

“And i understand that…” the lighthouse keeper smiled and nodded “However the navy does not base in this town, so i'm afraid i don't trust what that badge of yours shows me, and the only way i would share with you the information you want is if a police officer i do in fact know, orders me too, especially as the only people who can get their hands on those records are me, and any authority in this village. Now if that all, goodnight sir-”

He began to close the door when Arthur's hand shot out and grabbed it, his hands flexing with strength as he kept it open. His knuckles began to turn white. He was really starting to lose his patience with this guy. He was as stubborn as a damn mule. “You're really going to deny a navy officer?!” he grumbled trying not to raise his voice, though clearly struggling to maintain any professionalism

“A navy officer- I do not know, do not trust and do not have any reason to give private documentation too. Now if you would please leave sir, this is private property.” The keeper's voice dropped in a way Arthur recognised as he meant business.

Arthur's jaw clenched, and his chest rose and fell with deep breaths, trying and failing to calm himself as his anger simmered. He wanted to grab the lighthouse keeper and squeeze him till he was gasping for air.

“Fine.” he spat as he turned on his heel, and stormed out of the little garden leading to the lighthouse, leaving the gate swinging open and creaking methodically. He stomped away in anger. He was pissed. That lighthouse keeper was a stubborn bastard, that was for sure. Who in their right mind would refuse a naval officer?!

Chapter Text

“Who on earth told you the lighthouse keeper would help you?!” an officer howled while others listened, snickering cruelly.

It was a few days later, and Arthur was complaining about the interaction with the lighthouse keeper to those in the station breakroom after remembering again he had literally no other leads. He had his arms crossed angrily over his chest, which was puffed out frustratedly which he gingerly bit at the corner of his lips.

“He's a stubborn git who doesn't like company” another policewoman piped up, sipping her tea and running her hand over her legs with a mild chuckle, “Or change for that matter. Anyone he's not familiar with he won't pretend to be kind to them for very long. Especially if they piss him off”

“No wonder he wouldn't give you those records.” One of the leading officers shook his head, his voice a gruff rumble beneath his grey beard tht he ran his fingers through as he spoke, “He is technically in the right though, only him and the authorities can handle those documents. But you are paired with the police station, so technically you could be authorised to use those documents. After lunch we can go up and see him, how about that? Then he'll definitely be home there's so doubt”

Arthur huffed nose twitching, his arms crossed against his chest again. The idea of seeing that stubborn lighthouse keeper annoyed him, however he knew it was necessary and he was glad that this time, the officers would be with him to make sure that he’d most definitely get those documents. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced towards them, clearly still irritated.

“That lighthouse keeper is a pain in my ass. He has the information that could possibly unlock the entire case, and he wouldn't even give it to me. I've never met someone so stubborn in my life!”

The officers laughed and patted him on the back “trust me you won't ever again! You can negotiate with criminals better than you can Oscar!”

-

Some time had passed and now, they were making their way up the hill. The view of the waves lapping over one another was the same as the day before, only they seemed more active as it was only mid-day. Once they reached the aged lighthouse, Blake took to once again rapping his knuckles on the door. This time the door swiftly opened and the same man in a similar outfit to yesterday appeared. He didn't look pleased to see Arthur again however the moment his eyes landed on the officer, a woman in hi-vis uniform with her hair tied in a bun, his expression contorted in a pleased and innocent smile. “Officer Amie, I take it this is about the records?” he asked with a polite and practiced grin as he addressed the officer ignoring Arthur himself.

The navy seal huffed in response, cursing under his breath as he crossed his arms again, a reassuring habit he was now realising, as he watched the interaction with an annoyed glare. The officer nodded, returning the man's smile with a warm one. “You’d be correct, it's regarding the criminal organization working in the area.”

Oscars expression changed into that of innocent surprise as he spoke “oh! I wasn't aware there was one! You see I was visited by this man yesterday but not knowing who he was I refused to hand over the records, do come in! He smiled, gesturing for them to follow as he walked inside.

Arthur was speechless and practically brimming with rage, it was like the man had done a complete 180 flip, all it took for him to be polite was for an officer to be there. And what did he mean he didn't know about the organisation!? Arthur had literally told him about- oh he was two seconds away from kicking him.

Forcing his legs to move, he followed the keeper into the lighthouse and up the winding stairs to where they entered a large circled room with the infamous light standing firmly in the middle.A desk outlined part of the edge of the room, before it was disrupted by two glass doors leading onto the balcony. He watched as the lighthouse keeper walked over to a bookshelf behind the railing around the hole for the stairs and pulled out a rather thick binder book. He addressed the officer again, still refusing to acknowledge Arthur's existence.

“For future reference officer, if there's someone who needs to use my documents, please call me or make me aware beforehand. This man is not from our village therefore I assumed he had no right to look at the documents and I kicked him off my property.” ‘Oscar’ grinned slyly

The officer laughed and nodded, while Arthur scowled at being ignored.

“Of course, well, this is commander Arthur Walkins of the commanding navy. He’s been sent here by the government to help track down a local criminal organization working in the area. His subordinates had been sent previously though none of them got too far so he was sent as a last resort”

The man's smile dropped quickly and he went back to scowling with the introduction of Arthur. “And why. Why have the life guards or your police force not dealt with this situation.”. He muttered down at himself, riffling through some of the pages in the book he'd chosen to take out

There was an awkward, and uncertain silence, as if Amie was unsure how to answer such a question.

Eventually,

“So he's working with you guys then?” he huffed, finally standing up straight.

Arthur spoke up this time interjecting and trying to reach forward, “yes im working with the police force now could i-”

“Is he working with you guys?” he repeated ignoring him, and not even trying to hide his amused grin.

“Yes…hes allowed to look at your documents, he needs them for his investigation”

Oscar smiled in response, “that's all I needed.” and suddenly the binder was shoved against Arthur's chest, causing him to stumble black slightly. Oscars hand gripped Arthur's shoulder tightly, before pulling him to the side and sitting him down at the desk lining the wall.

“These records are from this year, organized by date, time, name of the ship and what cargo it holds and or takes. I have camera recordings 24/7 as well as the log book from down at the fishery and boat store at the dock. I've also got digital copies of all the records too, just for the sake of it. I've got about 15 of these binders recollecting the last 15 years, and I've had this system since I became lighthouse keeper when I was 27. Before these, I just had the log book from the fishery, though we decided to create another organisation system eventually. As I've said, this is this year's book-” he pointed over to the book shelf, “And over there is last year's book as well as all the others if you need to go back” he hummed with an itchy, irritatingly cocky smile.

The navy officer's eyes widened as he was given this and he couldn't help but let out a small squeak of surprise as he tried to process everything that he was told. He was speechless, and all his mind could think about was how much of a cocky, sarcastic, pain in the ass this lighthouse keeper was.

A smirk tugged at his lips, but disappeared just as quickly as it arrived: he wanted to strangle this guy as he stood staring down at him. He huffed to himself, settling into the seat as he set the binder down on the table with an exaggerated slam, “your quite the organised bastard aren't you…” he muttered as he looked down and flipped the binder open to a random page.

“What can I say?” He heard the lighthouse keeper hiss back.

It was written with this neat, consistent black ink, The paper was scratchy and thick and He sighed and grinned to himself; the handwriting practically mirrored the the asshole lighthouse keeper, slanted to the side, consistent, organised and-

As he reached to stand with the folder, it slid to the other side of the table, and he looked up, his amused mood quickly shifting to one of pure annoyance as Oscar had snatched the binder back, and with that shit eating grin, he tilted his head and smiled as politely and as stingy as he could, just to simply annoy the navy officer.

“It's getting late officers, maybe come back another day, I have to get on duty after all!” he said with a sing-dong tune of voice.

Arthur's face fell further nd further with every worn that came out of that man's mouth and his brows furrowed in what could only be described as simmering rage, “i'm staying” he spat out.

Now it was Oscar's turn to be annoyed, but Oscar was easily riled up, and his eye twitched with annoyance as his fingers curled tighter around the binder. “I'm sorry..?” he asked, his frustration becoming more and more evident.

It was satisfying to see.

“You heard me, I'm staying.” the navy officer grinned with a determined, stubborn glint in his eye. He stood up out of his seat to face oscar parallel, and he towered over him,

“Im sorry…sir. But that's now allowed, this is my house you realise? You cant just-”

But Arthur just waved his hand at him dismissively. He knew damn well this was Oscar's home. But that factor just made him want to stay more. “I know that.” He took a few steps forward, and leaned down slightly so both men were face to face, “and yet I'm still, staying”

Oscar groaned, but despite being frustrated, he smiled as calmly as he could.”and what makes you think you can do that…”

It wasn't a question.

That smile, the fact he was still, fucking smiling, after he tried to rile him up, oh it went straight through Arthur. It Made his jaw clench, and made him want to just smash that lighthouse keepers face in-

“Mister Arthur...sir…” the policelady who had escorted him here suddenly spoke up, after hiding herself in the corner, all shy and intimidated. She was finally trying to make her presence known.

"You may be a navy officer… but we do not have the right to intrude or Mr Oliver's home…and i refuse to grant you that right, before you ask…you can come back tomorrow…”

At the police officer's disruption, he huffed. Despite the temptation to ignore her, she was the newest girl at the station, he remembered, and he didn't wanna give her a hard time, no matter how much he wanted to give the lighthouse keeper one. He might be cold, but he wasn't plain heartless.

With a reluctant exhale, he sunk back and sighed “Fine, im coming.” he uttered in a gravely rough voice.

Oscar flashed him one final, victorious smile before he made his way down the stairs, and they left the lighthouse.

On the walk down the steep hill back to the station, the officer tried to lighten the mood.

“Hey…take it easy yeah..?you'll be able to see those documents whenever you like..it's not like the organization is a massive threat yet, you have plenty of time…”

But Arthur didn't care.

“Sunrise is at 6am, the light should turn off at quarter to. I'll go then to see him.” This was going to be his whole plan. To be as much of a pain in his ass to this lighthouse keeper as he could.

“You really wanna make oscars life hell..?” The officer tried to smile but still looked a bit weary and unsure.

“Hes annoying and hes pissed me off. Is he known around town to be an ass?”

“An understatement…” the officer hummed quietly, “ from what I've been told, oscars the town grump. You'll rarely see him outside the lighthouse unless he's on the beach or in the library, occasionally in the aquarium too I think. But it's a rare experience if you do see him in the wild, he's a solitary creature who likes his lighthouse and that's it. And, if he doesn't bite your head off, then it's most likely only because he likes you, you've got kids around you or you haven't managed to piss him off yet…which clearly isn't in your deck of cards…”

“sounds like a damn hermit who doesn't like people.” the naval officer declared, pointing his arm in the air dramatically.

“Probably quite accurate” the officer giggled, “though I'd probably describe him as more of a hobbit… a sea hobbit.” M she laughed

“Sea hobbit” he repeated in almost a reminiscing way.

How amusing.

Chapter Text

At quarter to 6am, Arthur knocked on the chipping door again, for the third day in a row. He'd gotten up stupidly early for this, and he hadn't had nearly as much caffeine as he would have liked. God forbid coffeeshops aren't open at 5:30am. But it was worth it; to annoy that damn lighthouse keeper, and so he could study the documents for as long as he physically could, he was getting bored of this coastal town very quickly.

When Oscar finally did open the door, he was wearing a knitted deep blue and white jumper with a matching dark blue scarf, his dark brown curls and baby blue tendrils (i got that from google dont hate me) falling by the side of his head, and messily strewn up in a half assed bun, or maybe just one he’d slept in. Arthur was beginning to notice a theme with his outfit choices. Either way it was clear he'd just woken up, disorientated and messy, he put on a fake polite smile, that clearly showed his true annoyance as he addressed the commander.

“Seal…” he muttered, like it was a bitter curse.

The navy commander's grin widened, knowing he'd woken up the lighthouse keeper from his precious slumber.
“Good morning, hobbit.” he returned the name calling with amusement.

The man's face fell, like he was cutting a string, the act fell and he stepped aside allowing Arthur to walk into the small, cozy room at the bottom of the lighthouse he'd never really noticed before.

“I’m assuming you're here for the documents.” he grumbled, closing the door behind him and beginning to walk towards the stairs.

“Yes, so if i could just take them and-”

“Well, since you're here so early,” Oscar interrupted him eagerly, his voice a pitch higher than his sleepy one, “I'll be pleased to let you know that despite your hopeful attitude, those documents will not be leaving this lighthouse. They remain here, and they will never leave this property.” Arthur brian stuttered and another crease was beginning to form between his eyebrows again. “So if you want to work with them, then you best set up a desk upstairs.” He grinned as he spun around and walked upstairs “I hope you brought food, I won't be feeding you.” he cackled bitterly as he disappeared round the curve of the stairs.

That's when Arthur's grin fell, his smugness dissipating as he was hit with the information that destroyed his plan. No biggie, he tried to think, he'd just annoy the hobbit to make up for it. He was tempted to start by asking for food, since he’d specifically brought up not asking for it. It would just be to get on his nerves, however he decided to be kind, and just make enough comments to work him up throughout the day.

“ You're cranky this morning.”

“You don't belong here. Take that how you will" he spoke immediately and casually in response. He continued to make his way up those stairs unfazed by his comment and clutching his knee slightly

He rolled his eyes “im well aware of that, hobbit”

When they got upstairs, Oscar walked over to one side of the desk, sitting down next to a steaming mug, and a newspaper. Arthur sat at the other side of the desk, putting as much distance between them as possible. The documents had been left out for him, Oscar clearly wanted them to remain as far apart as possible. He reached over, pulling the binder towards himself,and opened his own notebook to begin copying.

-

To his dismay, no matter how neatly the notes were arranged, many of the documented ships were recurring, and there were hundreds of them. There were ships that would leave in the morning and come back in the evening, every single day, and with there being so many, pinpointing the specific ships with suspicious activity would be hell.

Arthur tapped his fingers against the table, annoyed at the ever growing task presented before him. Meanwhile, Oscar stood by the side grinning. He turned on his heel eventually, and walked to the centre of the room, reaching up to turn off the lighthouse light, before picking up his mug and taking an obnoxiously loud sip. On purpose.

The way Oscar just stood to the side was quickly beginning to irritate Arthur more and more by the second. It was like he was rubbing it in his face of how long these lists were.

After a few minutes he huffed loudly, falling back and bringing a hand up to rub his face and stubble. He noticed the lighting change, and looked over to see the light house keepers stupid fucking grin.

“You find this so amusing, don't you.” he spat

“Absolutly” he hummed, voice echoed as he tilted his head back and finished the tea in his mug.

He could strangle Oscar right now, his attitude and that damn smirk was driving him insane. He slammed the binder shut and ran his fingers through his, what must have been, rapidly greying locks, thanks to this task.

He stood up, groaning as Oscar chimed in “And where do you think you're going?”. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles whitening as they made eye contact.

“Outside. To get some damn air or I swear I'll-” he bit his tongue. And in response the lighthouse keeper snorted.

Arthur stormed out onto the balcony, desperate for the cold touch of bitter sea wind. And that he got. He opened the doors onto the lighthouse balcony, and was hit with a sudden gust of ice cold wind that ran down his spine and made goosebumps appear on the skin beneath his clothes.

His hands gripped the metal railing tightly, ignoring the slight burning feeling of hands as he inhaled deeply, and held it in his lungs. He was stuck, and frustrated sure, but at least he had something more than what he used to. The sunrise was a soothing refreshment of life, and the soft splash of the tide against the rocks beneath the lighthouse was such a sobering and grounding sound, that just for a moment he felt truly at peace. Maybe he was just getting old.

But of course, the moment didn't last long, as the soft thud of leather against the metal balcony disrupted the moment, as the lighthouse keeper appeared behind him once again.

“Take a break seal…You just got here, it's early, and it's gotta be overwhelming…you're clearly too wound up to think clearly…want a hot drink?”

He inhaled deeply once more, letting the bitter sweet sea salty air filter into his lungs and consume him for just one more moment, before he collapsed against the railing and sighed, looking down into the fresh morning water. “Coffee if you've got it…”

“Any sugar or milk..? I've got sweetener too.” What was he a fucking barista?

The switch of mood between the two felt like a small truce, pleasantries, just to be polite and welcoming, despite their continuous spiteful feud.

He thought about how to take his coffee for a moment before humming “some milk…and three sugars please…” There were no more words spoken but the lighthouse keeper disappeared into the building, returning with two steaming mugs around 10 minutes later.

Despite their little spiteful feud and the tension between them, they settled, the small domestic moment allowed ease to slither it's way into both the elderly mens bones, resting their, like and abandoned hound dog on the street, far too skinny and with no nurture left inside itself, with nothing but fear and teeth far to worn and weak to do that much damage. They stood there in silence, till the dog had fallen asleep and dissipated, and both mugs were empty.

Oscar took both mugs, but his feel were welded to the ground. “Think logically.” He murmured, “what information do you have? What do you need? And what's your aim.” His face was serious and blatant, looking out at the sea, rather than at Arthur.

He scoffed but played along., ”I need information on the ships; where they come from, where they dock at, the people on board, and what specific kind of suspicious cargo they're bringing in.” His expression hardened,“the aim is to find out who the hell is part of this organisation and to catch and stop them.”

Oscars tone became sharper, more witty and harsh “well do you know what kind of organization it is? Are they thieving? Or are they a threat to public safety. Are they dealing illegal substances? Drugs? Or alcohol? Moonshine? Or something else, you can't be vague about this. Even if it's stuff you know, you have to bring up every detail to get any further.”

The suddenly intense interrogation-like atmosphere was a bit of a shock, and the continuous change in mood felt like whiplash but he was a navy commander. He could deal with this, why was he so shocked?

“Theyve been selling military grade equipment…and from what I've been told, most likely dealing some things, no threat to public safety yet, but it's never ruled out."

“good. What kind of military grade?”

Arthur's expression falters for a moment, he shouldn't be telling this guy anything, but he was at a standstill, any help would be help after all…

“Weapons…ammunition,explosives gear and possibly even vehicles and aircraft parts. The government hadn't notified us of it, meaning that it's illegal, and from not approved suppliers, or that it's going to the wrong people. They've been selling a variety, and to whom, we don't know…”

“And the police haven't noticed any suspicious activity around town? Their meant to be good at that. Under cover, dealing with such expensive and dangerous stuff” his eyes were narrowed as he leant against the railing with folded arms.

Arthur let out a huff in response, he was good, but invasive and still annoying. “The police havent noticed a thing.” he spat

Oscar scoffed “no wonder they brought in a commander, their fucking useless…” He grumbled unapologetically

Ok, sweet little peaceful moment over and forgotten, he was getting on his nerves now, speaking down about the authority of the police, to a naval officer working with the police, “ maybe think about what you're saying lighthouse keeper…”

He scoffed, grinning, the wrinkles on his face from age weighing on him, curled around his mouth as his teeth glinted in the early morning light, “what? I was just pointing out they had to get professional help for this case. It's more than just some teenagers thieving from the corner shop.” he sneered

Damn, the hobbit was good at pushing his buttons, and he knew exactly what he was doing, that much was clear, from the smug smile on his face and the way his fingers were tapping against the metal rail of the balcony, expectantly.

“I don't need you to be a smart ass and tell me that they brought me in for a reason.” he turned to face him now so they were parallel to each other, Arthur's dark hair falling over his face as the sea wind blew it lightly.

“Alright, alright…ill leave you to your work now.” Oscar mumbled, breaking their eye contact with a shrug and he walked back inside.

When Arthur rejoined him inside, he was at the curved desk again sitting with a few books open around him and a notebook in front of him, with a pencil case open; he paid no attention to Arthur as he was focused on whatever he was writing. Arthur had no interest in him, as he was pissed off, and so he didn't bother to question the annoying lighthouse keeper anymore. Instead, he sat back down on the opposite side of the room and he took out his own notebook to begin trying to work out what he needed, again.

How could he find things out? what patterns would he recognise? and what was going to be his plan of action.

As hours passed, he'd occasionally glance at Oscar, one moment he was writing down in his note book, the next there were torn pieces of paper everywhere, and the next, his feet were up on the desk as he was shuffling through a pile of papers in his hands. He'd look down at the lighthouse keepers notes in the binder and imagine what he was writing right now, in that stupid curly slanted writing. His penmanship was actually quite impressive, if he was going to be honest with himself, which he wasn't going to be, but in a way it was almost pretty.

Chapter Text

“Go eat.”
A hand slammed down on Arthur's desk hard, leaving no room for argument.

It left the navy commander startled, the shock knocking the pen out of his hand and he looked up, annoyed. He was so focused that he hadn't heard the lighthouse keeper moving at all, let alone appear right behind him and lean around him to slam his hand on the desk. This guy barely knew him, but he knew exactly how to get on his nerves and exactly how to interrupt his focus. “I'm not hungry” he grumbled, his irritation flaring as he turned to face the other old man. Faces inches away because of the way he was leaning over him.

“No no, you're under my roof, it's my rules. This is a case I barely know anything about, but I can already tell it's not going to be easy, and just because I won't cook for you doesn't mean I'm going to let you starve. Go buy some food. I'll leave the documents and your notes exactly here, untouched, I promise. But go eat.” He was insistent, and just as stubborn as he was any other day.

Arthur huffed in response to that, looking back and forth from his notes to that stupid damn lighthouse keeper that insisted on bugging him every single possible moment.

“Damn it…” he grumbled, he had a point. He needed to eat, he'd only had a couple cups of coffee and he knew Oscar wasn't going to let him continue his work until he ate something. With a muffled groan and a glare, Arthur stood up silently and began to go down the spiral stairs, slamming the front door as he left, to emphasise his annoyance and frustration with the lighthouse keeper.

It was almost an hour later when the front door to the lighthouse burst open and a rather disgruntled Arthur came in. He held a bag of food as he climbed the curling stairs again, and despite still being annoyed, he was at least no longer hungry.

He appeared at the top of the lighthouse dropping his food on his desk and slid down into his seat, his head laid back in the chair as he recovered from the exhaustion of climbing, all while Oscar simply grinned to himself and continued to write in the leather notebook hed been scribbling in all morning

-

Days after days went by following this routine. Early mornings, backhanded comments, and no progress in the case whatsoever. With no breakthrough and hours of agonising data read, Arthur slammed his head on the desk. He'd completely given up. How was he meant to do this? Couldn't they just send in some detective or some shit? He was above fieldwork, he was much to old for it now.

His melancholy groans covered the noise as Oscar placed another mug of coffee and sat down next to him. “What's wrong?” Oscar sounded uninterested but Arthur was too burnt out to care at this point in time.

“Everything. This case is driving me mad, insane! There's no leads no nothing, I give up” the irritation was clear in his gravelly voice as he threw his hands into the air and fell back on his chair and he rubbed his tanned stubbly chin.

“Why, and what, are you looking for…go from the start…”

“i’ve done that you ass-” he spat

“Oi! Dont yell at me you twat when im trying to help you. Now from the start, again.” he said with this no nonsense tone that actually made Arthur go rigid, no one had spoken to him like that since he was a new recruit when he was in his twenties.

Arthur bristled angrily, but didn’t protest any further, instead he looked over all his notes, flipping through pages and spreading out paper across the desk.

“Im looking for any evidence that points to who is behind this organization…anything indicating that there selling military grade equipment, where its going, where there making it…” he glanced over at the other man, “are you just making me repeat everything I've said to you from the past few days?” he growled, his short temper peaking through

“For your own good” the man spat back just as quick ”To get it stuck into your head. Sometimes looking at the information more and more makes you see things you hadn't before. Have you got anything other than just what you're looking for?”

“No…nothing that's really worth pointing out anyways…”

“Screw that!” he snapped waving his hand in the air “what aren’t you pointing out? What are you ignoring? It might not seem useful but it still involves the case, so it is. Don't skip over the small details!” he tapped the desk with emphasis as he spoke.

Arthur turned to the lighthouse keeper grinning as his eye twitched in annoyance, “you're really good at getting on my nerves.” he gritted through his teeth as he turned in his chair again looking back down at the binder that was haunting his nightmares. “Thers been a few times where the cargo ships have come in earlier than predicted. Nothing caught my eye at first, but…” he hesitated,” looking back, if we circled which ones were common occurrences and we watched what dates lined up, then we might find some sort of link between certain ships, workers, and the cargo…”

Now they were getting somewhere.

“When did the organization first sprout?”

The topic change wasn’t too sudden, but it caught Arthur off guard, though he shouldn't be too surprised, Oscar was good at being annoying and slightly unpredictable. So he huffed, exhaling deeply “They became more prominent a few months ago…though they were dealing before that, only in very small, brief amounts…meaning their customer, or customers, started demanding much more…for whatever reason…”

“That's where you're going wrong then” Oscar fell back in his chair with a satisfied grin across his face,”pinpoint a date, or at least a vague time line. Otherwise you're analysing useless data, burning yourself out, and wasting time. My time. You could be analysing too much or too little, you don't know what you're looking for yet.” Oscar closed and snatched the data book with a smirk,” come back here when you know what you're looking for.”

Arthur's anger was at its peak, surely. Watching this prick snatch his data, tell him how to do his job, and be right? It irritated him so much that his nails dug into his palms and his knuckles turned white. He had to bite his lip so as not to lash out, no matter how much he wanted to. “fine…” he spat bluntly before standing up, shoving everything into his bag not caring about the mess it would cause for him later, and grabbing his umbrella. He didn't say another word to the lighthouse keeper, only mustered a bitter “bastard…” under his breath as he slammed the lighthouse door, and trudging off through the wet grimy weather back to his room in the shitty motel just outside the town.

Chapter Text

It was only a few hours later when he returned, late evening, it had been dark for hours now, but Arthur didn’t care; he was going back to that damn lighthouse. He’d never been this late before, he always left around 6pm, currently, it was 9:30, and pitch black thanks to the late winter season.

The icy sea thrashed against the cliff as he walked, each step feeling like he was holding the water of Sisyphus, and the rock on his shoulders. His boots were heavy on his feet, and his clothes felt like they were sticking to his skin as the uncaring wind blew against him. When he eventually reached the top of the hill, he shoved his way through the metal gate, and he didn't even bother to knock.

Over the past four hours, Arthur had walked through the local area and surveyed each shop, each cafe and each family owned business. He also noted down the sheer amount of buildings that were closed or boarded up.

A failing economy; probably from the crime operating in the area, driving families away.

He pushed open the rotting wood door of the lighthouse and stepped inside, bathing in the sudden warmth it provided him. He kicked off his boots, shoving them into the shoe stand next to oscars, his old torn boots looked rather messy next to Oscar's pricine dark brown dress shoes.

He wasn’t exactly best pleased that he was here again, but at least this time he had a better plan in his head

“And…since when were you comfortable just letting yourself into my house?” Oscar had appeared behind him, dressed in a thick shirt, an oversized knitted cardigan, and baggy trousers, he was leaning on the wall of the lighthouse, face dark and the small crease between his eyebrows highlighted his clear frustration with this imposter seal, infiltrating his home. He was blinking, confused, lips slightly parted in annoyance, but he was holding a gently steaming mug in his hands, which he now realised were covered in woolen, fingerless gloves.

Arthur looked up and caught oscars confused, and annoyed glare. For once..? It didn't fulfil him. It didn't please him to see him annoyed like it usually did. Maybe because he didn't want to annoy him on purpose..? He only wanted the ship logs…

For just a moment, Arthur bit his lip awkwardly, before quickly puffing up his chest and smirking, "I can let myself in as much as i damn please.” he scoffed snarkily.

Oscar wasn’t having it.

“This is- you- you do realise that this is where i actually live?? It's private property that I own- This is breaking and entering!?”

The naval officer's jaw clenched, nibbling at the corner of his lips briefly. Oscar was getting on his nerves now. He was tired, hungry, and it was taking a damn lot in his not to strangle the lighthouse keeper right now.

“It's only breaking and entering if I don't have a good reason to be here, which I do.” Arthur stood up straighter now, pushing past Oscar and beginning to walk up the spiral stairs. He heard Oscar shift and stumble slightly, before he heard the soft pitter patter of his steps on the stairs behind him.

“Nope- still illegal-” he huffed trying to catch up to Arthur. “Anyways- why are you here?? I thought you were done for the night after your little temper tantrum.”

Oscar was just being a pain in the ass now. And Arthur refused to let him kick him out now, not when he was so close to cracking something, he could feel it. His patience was wearing thin, and his irritation with the lighthouse keeper was quickly becoming a threat of his sanity.

“I needed a walk. Through this shitty-”

Oscar caught his legs and made him fall forward, “watch what your saying.” he spat

He gritted his teeth together and bitterly spoke "through this…small…coastal town of yours. I have a better idea of what I'm looking for now. I also took a little visit to the fishery and ship yard…i was wondering, why do you document the ships, and not them?”

They finally emerged from the stairwell, and Arthur stopped right at the top, turning around to look at Oscar who couldn't walk onto the platform of the room and was stuck looking up at him from the stairs. He was scowling.

“Well, seal. I document the ships because I used to work at the dock and on board some of those ships. I was the best at organization, and when I retired from that place to take over the family lighthouse, no one else was willing to learn, or take over the documentation. So we made a new system. Every time a ship docked, they would go in, and while some of the crew, either on the ship, or from the dock would unload the cargo, someone would go write in a book. That book would then be brought up to me at the end of each day, and I would spend the evening writing all the ships down into an official, proper document. Then, when technology and phones came around, they stopped bringing the book up, and instead would just send me the records online so I could do it as they came in.”

Well…that explained that Arthur was rendered speechless. And Oscar shoved past him to get up.

“Now you're here, I've gone back to doing it each evening…” he grumbled sitting down on his desk and sipping his drink., “now for gods sake stop gauking like a dead fish and do whatever the hell it is you need to. I want to be able to update them tonight and if you're so insistent this stupid- whatever, cannot wait till the morning, then i want it over with!.”

Arthur was just stunned, and silently nodded before taking his usual place on the desk silently.

It was an hour later when Oscar stood up and appeared behind him making him jump. “Where are you staying.”

“W-what-” Arthur spluttered

“Where are you staying in town. It's not at the shitty family motel a couple miles out is it?”

“Y-yeah..?”

Oscar's head fell back with a frustrated groan as he cursed and tapped his foot against the floor. “You have to stay the night” he grumbled through his teeth as he began to walk down the stairs, leaving Arthur shocked, jaw agape again.

“Wait- what?!” he exclaimed, running after the man and abandoning his work.

“That stupid family owned hotel has a rule that their occupants can't re-book in after 7pm. They very rarely mention in so that then their occupants pay more to getback into their rooms, its a fucking scam.”

Arthur's eyes widened and he spluttered slightly, “are you serious?! That’s so-”

“I know, but I'm not gonna kick you out, especially at 10pm.” arthur glanced at the clock only just realising the time. “Being a naval officer, you've slept in a hammock right?”

Arthur wasn't happy whatsoever. He was steaming mad actually. Arthur nodded and made a small noise of affirmation, although he wouldn't admit it, the last time he'd slept in a place like that he was 28 and on a small naval ship, simply traveling from one place to another, nothing special, it was quite a relaxing trip actually.

“In that case, my bedroom and study, that's where you can stay tonight, there's a desk in there too if you're that desperate to keep writing. Go get your stuff and bring it down, it's the middle door, not the first one when your coming down, the second.” he grumbled softly as he continued walking down the stairs while Arthur simply stood frozen.

When Arthur opee=ned the door to the room, he was created by light blue walls, and a white skirting board around the bottom of the room. There was a dark wood desk beneath the window that looked out onto the sea. A small distance away from the desk, to the right, there was a dark blue and navy hammock, hung on a light birch frame. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room on the light grey fur rug, shuffling awkwardly till Oscar walked out of a door on the side of the room and leaned in the doorway.

“This is my study, and through here is my room if you need me, for once, please don't bother me on purpose, I do intend on catching some sleep tonight. I also don't want you staying up too late as well, you can work on them tomorrow aswell remember that, i want you to catch some sleep tonight old man.”

“Oi, old man my ass!” he scowled, frowning deeply, and Oscar laughed in response, a deep hearty chuckle, straight from his chest that made his whole body shake.

Arthur stood, memorised by the sound.

“Yeah yeah whatever, how old are you? Like 48? 52?”

“Fuck you!” he growled, “im 56…” he gritted and he watched with displeasure as Oscar's face became a wide smile and he snickered

“Ha! You're still older than me! I'm only 54.”

Arthurs face contorted in annoyance “oh come on thats only a 2 year age gap- never mind, fuck your insufferable.”

Oscar only chuckled in response, “Go ahead and keep working on whatever notes you're making, then use the hammock when you're ready to sleep. Night asshole!” he smiled cheekily before turning around on his heel and walking into his room, closing the door behind him.

It was almost midnight, 2 hours later when Oscar left his room, shuffling quietly. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the nay commander passed out and hunched over his desk..his back was gonna kill him in the morning. Oscar winced at the thought; he could feel it himself.

Now if you were to ask Oscar what happened after that, he'd say he went to the bathroom, got a glass of water from the kitchen, and went back to bed.

He'd never admit that the blanket Arthur would wake up wrapped in, was put there by him. He'd never admit that he'd chosen his favourite blanket from the reading corner in his bedroom, to put on the seal he hated oh so much, the one made of fabric patches, sewn together by him, and embroidered by amara.

No. Never.

He'd never do that.

Chapter Text

And like it was written in the stars, or he was just predictable, Arthur awoke with a terrible back pain that made him regret entirely staying in that god forsaken lighthouse.

Although his relieved hatred for the lighthouse and its occupant disappeared once he opened the door and he smelt the bitter caramelised smell of toast, accompanied by what could only be greasy eggs cooking in a pan coming from downstairs. He envisioned the meal in his head as he began to walk down the spiral staircase.

When he made it down to the bottom floor, he finally noticed that to the left of the front door there were 3 steps, wide, that led up to what must have been the small, barn-like extension Arthur had seen on the outside of the house. He glanced around the corner as he ventured up the stairs, and he found Oscar softly nodding his head along to whatever it was he was humming while he fried eggs in a pan on the stove in front of him. There were 2 plates on the counter with a soft honey coloured toast and Arthur could only assume one was for him.

“Are you just gonna linger in the doorway or are you gonna actually gonna come and sit down?” the lighthouse keeper said, gesturing to the dark wood dining table behind him, without turning around.

Arthur just let out a small gruff noise of affirmation and awkwardly sat down on one of the four seats. “You know…you didnt have to-”

There was a loud pop from one of the eggs in the oil, and oscar chuckled, shoulders shaking as he could hear the way arthur had flinched and tensed up at the noise.

“Calm down! … i wasn’t gonna let you stay in my home and not feed you…plus it’s been a while since i've…done this…”

Arthur let the words linger in the air as he stared, mesmerised by the sight in front of him. It was such a profusely domestic and sweet scenario, Arthur almost didn't believe he was in it, instead thinking that he was just looking on on some story, some- situation of a happy and loving couple in the morning. This wasn't the kind of story he’d be involved in.

“So…what was so important that you had to use my notes at 10pm..?”Oscar asked gingerly.

Arthur just stared down at the table, his world, fading away into the black coffee that swirled in the mug beneath him.

He didn't say anything.

He didn't even look up.

Why was his face so warm?

He heard Oscar shuffle, his feed scraping across the concrete floor that felt as cold and uncaring as the sea Arthur remembered hardened his youth.

“Alright then..dont tell me-”

Arthur's head shot up and just as he opened his mouth, he let out a yelp of pain and his forehead collided with the table. He heard the clattering of pans, the sudden absence of the gas overs whistle, and the feeling of warm hands suddenly on his back and a face near his.

“Woah woah woah, what the hell happened?! Take it easy, be careful..." His voice was sudden, but became smooth, laced with worry and fragile nerves.

“Just…moved too quickly…cracked my neck…”

“Its the way you slept last night, next time you can have my bed.”

Arthur didn’t even get to process that statement before two warm and soft hands were on the bottom of his neck, pressing lightly against the muscles, pushing forward, then pulling back.

Arthur's breath hitched, his throat felt tight and he felt frozen, as he felt each burning touch relieving the even worse burning beneath his skin.

“Jesus Christ, when was the last time you got a massage…”

Arthur's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't pay attention. He's been receiving a massage for less than a minute and he felt like he was a giddy, energy full little boy again. Like he was in heaven.

They stayed like that for a small while, before Oscar's hands slowly moved away. Arthur hadn't realised his eyes had been closed until he opened them again, after he heard the soft clap of oscars slippers against the concrete as he walked off, to retrieve their two plates of eggs and toast. He put them on the table, and joined Arthur, sitting across from him without a word while Arthur stretched.
“Sorry I…it’s been a while…”

“I can tell.” Oscar scoffed while sipping his coffee.

Silence

They both began to awkwardly eat their breakfast when Arthur spoke, “about…the case, I’ll be out of town for a while… I've tracked some of the vehicles, and I'm going to follow them out of town, see where they're dumping their imports and when I do, I'm going to contact the navy, let them know what's happening. Then they can sort out the buyers and apprehend them, while we take care of the suppliers here.”

Oscar hummed into his mug as Arthur began to nibble at his eggs, the runny yolk staining the toast in a way he hadn't tasted in years. It reminded him of his mother.

“So…, you'll finally be leaving me alone, you ugly mug?”

Arthur laughed, actually laughed

“Yeah…but I'll be back..”

“Good…but i need you to know-”

Oscar's voice faded away as Arthur continued to eat. He probably should have been paying attention to what he was saying, it seemed important, but the only thing Arthur was paying attention to was the way Oscar looked in this early morning glow of his little kitchen. Soft, kind, not like the hard, tight fisted hand at the grindstone he was used to. The grumpy, rude, sarcastic lighthouse keeper who wanted him out of his home, no he wasn't the one sitting across from him, who’d cooked him this golden honeyed breakfast this morning. This was a different, kinder oscar.

An oscar who used to cook this meal for someone, and had missed doing it, and therefore took the chance to cook it again-

“-Did you get that?”

“Yep!”

“Good…well then, ill see you around seal…just- put your pots in the sink when your done…im gonna go read…” Oscar gave him a soft nod as he stood up and dropped his plate in the sink.

And with that, Oscar left Arthur behind in the kitchen of the lighthouse, to linger with this new realization in his head. One he wouldn't come to admit, nor think about for another 3 weeks.

Arthur would leave his bots on the table, his mug of coffee half drank, and his chair, not tucked under the table.

Yes he was leaving, but he wasn't done. He wasn't finished, and he was going to be back.

Hed be damned if he didn't come back to annoy his little lighthouse keeper again,