There had been an argument, a slight? A transgression? Or was it just something somebody had, and some else didn’t like that? Joseph knew his father was in some kind of trouble, but he hadn’t know what or with whom exactly; they were reasonably well-off and his father had many connections, but now they were having to leave. His mother had passed away from disease, so it was only the two of them. The night before they were due to leave, there was an altercation, Joseph had tried to intervene and defend his father when a blunt instrument - the butt of a sword, or rifle, struck him in the head. 

Then, all he knew was drowning.

He still has nightmares about the drowning, which is the only thing he knows to be true on the account of the pirates who retrieved him. He doesn’t really remember, not the night nor incident in question, not his father, or mother - say for his earliest memories of them. It is a haze, it took several weeks for him to remember even himself, or at least, some of himself. Sometimes he dreams about being pulled up through the water, which is the better of the two to rouse him from sleep. The scar on his temple tells of some kind of accident or assault, but his rescuers couldn’t say exactly what happened.

…

Joseph averted his eyes as the surgeon dressed Elissa; he could be a bit of a scoundrel but he wasn’t quite that bad. “I understand, thank you, Adam” the Captain nodded, giving him a clap on the arm as he departed, he grinned at the surgeon’s remark.

Joseph descended to sit on his haunches so that he was eye-level with Elissa in her recumbent position on the bed, he remained there as she sat up. “You punched him…a lot” Joseph half smiled, then frowned and stood up before he removed his coat from across his shoulders, he draped it over Elissa - she was still pale, and would be cold from not only the blood loss and shock, but the chill and damp from the ship. It was heavy, and warm from Joseph’s body. “You can stay with me, or you can go back to your room - what do you want?” he questioned.