The morning was bright and clear. The sun was shining down on the mountainous country, and Elizaveta decided that this was the best day to set foot on dry land. That is, except for the fact that she was setting foot on dry land. The ship had been moored and she finally stepped off it. There was no way she could stand; her legs felt like they were melting as the ground rocked beneath her.
As she slumped to the ground, huge arms curled around her waist, yanking her back up onto her black leather shoed feet. She didn't protest; she simply let the guard drag her towards the man twenty yards away. His bright red uniform, chocolate brown hair and the dark black horse he sat astride were the only things she saw before she dropped her head. Of course. Who else would have captured her?
Beside her, Gilbert was struggling against his own captor. Elizaveta shook her head at him, just slightly. His narrowed red eyes widened and she spotted the glint of rebellion forming in them. Inside her, something ripped to get out. She knew the man who had captured them well, but even so, she couldn't believe he had done this to his former wife.
"Let us go," Her voice was hoarse and quiet, but the man on the horse heard her. She heard a short bark of laughter. Glancing up, she saw him slip down off his mount and land gently on the wooden planks of the port, his spurs flashing. The other red-coated guards bowed respectfully as he strode towards her. This was their captain. Gilbert turned his head very quickly to face her. She took in his wild eyes and shook her head again. Of course he wanted to try and escape. They both did, and by now she knew how to read his face well enough to tell that this was what he was thinking. He shrugged almost imperceptibly and she could tell he would let her handle it.
The captain stopped in front of her, and Elizaveta glared into his eyes. Even with his heeled boots, the man was still only an inch or so taller than her, a fact that the woman had always been quietly proud of. The captain's eyes were blue-violet. His mouth opened and he spat on her cheek. As the liquid rolled down her cheek, Elizaveta didn't allow herself to even flinch. Next to her, she felt Gilbert stiffen. The captain smirked at her.
"Let you go?" He asked, quietly. She stared at him, quite still. The guard holding her loosened his arms as the captain nodded to him. Elizaveta was surprised, but grateful. She hated the man, but if he was going to let them go after simply spitting on her, then she was going to take this opportunity.
"Roderich," She breathed, stepping towards him.
He raised a gloved hand and slapped her, hard, across the face. Gilbert let out a roar of anger that Elizaveta barely heard. She reeled, stunned. But only for a second.
Roderich grabbed her, yanked her towards him. It was all she could to not to fall over.
"Let you go," Roderich growled, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly. "Let you go, you pirate's whore, you traitor, you little – " He seemed lost for words. The anger in his face as he pinned her arms to her sides was apoplectic. Elizaveta looked at him and hated him, her cheek smarting from the agonizing force of his blow.
Gilbert was now being held down by four men, all of them sweating with the exertion of holding the pirate down. Roderich seemed to calm himself for a second, waving another three men over to take hold of Elizaveta's best friend, accomplice and lover. As the man she loved was dragged down the path, the man in front of her bent his head to kiss her swiftly on the lips. She froze, shocked. Roderich's hands lifted to cup the back of her neck, to caress her face. She was disgusted, but at the same time grateful to him for giving her a chance to escape. Ever so slowly, she raised the knife hidden in her sleeve, bringing it up to touch his throat –
"Not so fast," Roderich mumbled into her mouth. The pirate froze. He bit her lip harshly, then withdrew, yanking the dagger out of her grip. He smirked again, licking her blood off his own lips. Elizaveta stood, anger floating through her. That had hurt, in more ways than one. "I loved you once," She hissed at him. He threw back his head and laughed, a laugh she didn't recognize. He had changed so much in the past four years.
"Of course you loved me," he chuckled, sarcasm piercing his normally lilting voice. He raised a finger in front of her face. The dock was full of people, but everyone gave them a wide berth. Elizaveta could smell the sea, feel it running inside of her very soul. It lapped against her, breaking her.
Roderich sighed, almost mournfully, as he gazed out over the horizon.
"Today is a good day for an execution."