Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea of putting these words together for my own strange enjoyment.
Title: Pirate Ships
Author/Artist: Angelic Army Doctor
Character/Pairing: Arthur Kirkland/England/Britain
Fandom: Hetalia
Theme: #17 Missing Time
Summary: During a normal, quiet night at home Arthur muses over how his life used to be so drastically different so so many years ago...when he was a Pirate.
Not really offically entered in anything...but just a shout-out to the "64 Damn Prompts" on LJ where part of this idea for this fic came from. First thing I've written down and finished in many, many, MANY months though...so be gentle, I know it sucks. xD; But I think everything I write sucks. Eh.
Happy very VERY late Birthday to my best friend, Enti~
Oh, also, I would highly suggest listening to 'Pirate Ships' by The Cure, where the lyrics came from of course, because it really makes the fic if you ask me. Its really quite a lot more crappy without the song.
Enjoy and review if the urge happens to strike you!
He didn't rise immediately as the kettle shrieked, indicating the water inside reached its proper tea-making boil. Arthur was far too engrossed in his current love interest, and old dusty novel he'd just recently pulled out of his attic the other day, to bother responding to the kettles' cry for the next few moments(actually he hadn't even noticed it just yet...loud and annoying as it was, Arthur was so used to the noise after hearing it several times a day for so long sometimes even when he was doing nothing it took him a bit to remember he had the kettle on). He was nearing the middle now, emerald eyes glued to the lightly yellowed pages, turning each one with a tender, yet eager caress, excited to discover what was to happen next but still subconsciously making sure to be gentle for the book was rather old and had been sitting in a box in an attic for lord knows how long. The last thing Arthur wanted to do was rip the slightly fragile pages. That would just be a crime.
But, all good things come to an end...and as enjoyable as being immersed in a fabulous story was, Arthur did enjoy his tea very much as well...and thankfully with the arrival of a new chapter, the Brit was snapped out of his trance enough to recognize the familiar screech coming from the kitchen. With a somewhat reluctant sigh, he slipped in the bookmark and gently place the novel on the footstool as he rose from his armchair, heading into the kitchen to prepare his nightly cup of earl gray.
As he let the tea steep, Arthur leaned on his kitchen counter and took a glance out the small window, watching the sun setting over his lovely countryside. Everything was so quiet now, so peaceful...the only noise to be heard in his house was the ticking of the old clock on the family rooms' mantle, sometimes accompanied by the crackle of a fire bellow in the colder months with the occasional screech of the kettle throughout the day as the englishman methodically made his array of daily teas at almost exactly the same time as the day before. Occasionally the peace was disrupted by other nations, loud and obnoxiously barging in unannounced and uninvited(namely Alfred, going on and on about something pointless, mouth half-full of cheeseburger...though it was also not uncommon that Francis was the obnoxious uninvited guest)...but for the most part, in this modern day, and for quite some time now actually, Britain had been living a calm, quite, normal, predictable life.
And it had really never quite hit him until just now.
Dear lord...when did he get so...so boring? Arthur laughed aloud to his quiet empty home. Really, this was completely utterly ridiculous...he'd been this 'boring' for quite some time already, so long apparently he had almost forgotten when he wasn't boring. When he himself was loud, daring, defiant and ruthless...and probably rather obnoxious, but no one had dared ever tell him that for fear of having their tongues sliced right out of their mouth then and there. There was a time when he was lucky to get in a few hours of sleep at night, and downed rum several times a day whenever he craved and could get the chance. There were nights when he would attempt to get an our or two of shuteye, not knowing if he would wake to a cold blade to his throat or if he would not wake at all...and then there were times he spent whole nights in port taking on and doling out challenges of all kinds and sorts, singing drunkenly with his crew, and later taking the cutest one in the pub(be they male or female)upstairs for a little more fun.
Arthur smiled a bit to himself. It had been so long ago, so long...but still, he could remember those days as clear as if he had just stepped off his ship this morning. The Brit closed his eyes slowly, tilting his head back, remembering...
Far away, far away, child
Turn your eyes far away, child
I will sleep right down beside you
Tonight
I will sleep
Tonight
The strong, icy wind bringing the promise of a storm tickled the water, causing isharp waves to thrash against the ship which creaked and rocked under the pressure...but even hardly sober and with only a small candle to light the dark passage, Arthur had little trouble navigating his way bellow deck towards his cabin. The sun had set long ago, how long he wasn't exactly sure...but several hours at least probably...several hours which he had spent swigging rum and chuckling merrily on deck with his crew before the wind started to pick up. With the scent of a storm carried in the air, the crew had been roused to life and sent by to prep the ship for the oncoming storm while their Captain disappeared bellow deck to grab a tad bit of shuteye. He couldn't remember the last time he actually laid down with the purpose of sleep...and that usually meant it was about time to grab another couple of hours. He would need his energy for the storm...he would need to be as alert and on top of things as he could. Even the mildest of storms were nasty business here on the open seas.
Slipping into the cabin, the Captain fumbled for a moment as he settled the candle into the holder on the wall, shucking off his boots, coat, hat, and sword all the while. Blowing out the candle, he collapsed onto the small bed built securely into the wall, face in the small pillow, no even bothering with blankets. Letting out a breath, Arthur put the oncoming danger into the back of his mind and let the rocking of his ship and the familiar creaks and moans to sooth him into a near instant slumber...
Pirate ships, pirate ships, child
Merry and bold
Sparkling and rich, child
Coming to dock
Right at your feet
Tonight
Coming to dock tonight
"Oh, love love love...Antonio, love, really. This is getting a little old isn't it? This whole song and dance? It was cute at first and all...but its getting a little boring now don't you think?"
Captain Arthur Kirkland slowly walked a circle around his defeated opponent, who was currently in a very pleasing position on his knees with his head bent low, likely glaring at the deck of his own ship in shame and hatred if the Brit had to guess, sword having been tossed overboard after Arthur had won it from him. The rest of the British Captains crew was making quick work of defeating what was left of Antonio's crew, heading bellow deck to search around for basically anything of use or value Antonio currently possessed.
Arthur was getting bored however. The Spaniard Captain had been at this much longer, he was supposed to be the more skilled and experienced one. But though he put up a decently entertaining fight... it was still all too easy for the Brit to win and take his ship. Four our of four encounters all together Arthur had won and he was getting a little bored with it all, really rather unimpressed by the older Captain. The first couple of times it was easy to assume Antonio underestimate him, and that only made his victory all the sweeter...but really by the third and fourth, and now fifth, encounter the Spaniard certainly knew better then to underestimate the Brit.
To himself, Arthur pondered the idea of just striking Antonio down right here and now. It was the perfect opportunity, the perfect time...Arthur was growing bored of always winning. He wanted a fight, a challenge...a rival. And he was not known for his patience or generosity. Since there had hardly been any sort of improvement or change on Antonio's end after five total encounters...well, what was the whole point then?
Picking up his gaze for a moment, Arthur watched as his men whistled and laughed heartily, carrying out a few bags(presumably of gold, possibly jewels)and a very large chest. Oh. Well there was a very, very good point. He'd almost forgotten...Antonio was known for his excessive stash of gold and jewels.
"You see that Antonio?" Arthur practically purred, slipping the flat side of his blade under the other Captains chin, coaxing it up and over with the threat of the sharp end on the Spaniards throat. "That is all your gold, all your treasure...all mine now. All mine because you were too weak to stop me. Perhaps your age is catching up with you."
Arthur paused for a few moments, allowing this to sink in, watching Antonio bite onto his lip, anger and hatred burning in his eyes as he snapped his head around to glare, piercing Arthur with a million imaginary swords that he clearly wished he had. Arthur intentionally let out an amused chuckle, just to egg him on a little, tip him over the edge just that much more. With a flick of his wrist, the British Captain sheathed his sword.
"Think about that Antonio. I want a good fight next time we see each other. Having all this fabulous treasure for me saved your head this time, put me in a good mood...but if you don't satisfy me next time I won't be so generous." Arthur stated, all the while turning and walking towards his own ship, the rest of his crew drawing back as well. Once back on his own deck and ready to sail off, he turned back and shouted across.
"Until meet again, my love~!" he mocked the other one last time, before turning to his crew with a large, devious grin and announcing they would be heading to the nearest port and docking for a few days of rest and drinking as they sailed away.
In the stars
In the stars, child
See the people
In the stars, child
They will sail
Right through your window
Tonight
Into your window
Tonight
Downtime didn't happen, not when you were a Pirate. Piracy wasn't a job, it was a way of life...a way of life that meant being constantly on the go, a way of life that was always unpredictable...you had to be alert, you had to know your friends and your enemies and trust them all about the same. You had to rely on your crew, but not hesitate to cut them down or toss them overboard if necessary. You had to be quick, clever, and know what you were doing with a sword else you'd have one at your own throat or a noose around your neck in a heartbeat. It was a hard, brutal life that did not truly allow for luxuries like downtime and relaxation like most might believe, at least not for the Captain.
But, Arthur figured that this is what true relaxation would feel like.
The British Captain was in his favorite spot on his favorite kind of night; perched on the bow of his ship on a cool, clear, and quiet night, looking up at the vast expanse of inky sky dotted with millions upon millions of twinkling stars. It was the most breathtaking sight in the entire world, more beautiful then an entire mountain full of gold or a sea of jewels. Those little winking gems floating high high above his head, complimented by the dark seemingly endless depth behind them, the only gems he could never take all for his own no matter how hard he tried...that was true stunning beauty. There was nothing that could, nor would ever compare to the site of the stars in the sky on a clear night.
And there was nothing more wonderful then gazing upon those stars on a quiet night all by himself upon his own ship, the ever-present ocean wind teasing his hair in the gentle, soft caress of a familiar lover, the salty spray of the water bellow straying upwards to tickle any esposed skin like a happy playful child, and just the ever present familiar scent of life on the sea...it was...just...
It was completely and utterly Magical.
And it was during those times where he never wished for this to end. Never wanted to leave the ocean, the life on the sea, the difficult but amazing life of a Pirate...those times...those times were the one times he ever prayed, prayed for this to never end, to never be over...prayed to remain on the sea for the rest of his days.
Far away, far away, child
Turn your eyes
Far away, child
I will sleep
Right down beside you
Tonight
I will sleep
Tonight
I will sleep
Tonight
Arthur took a deep breath, shaking his head slowly to pull himself back to the present, away from his reminiscing which was starting to take too much of a remorseful turn for his liking. Even back then, he knew it couldn't last forever...the time of the Pirate was slowly ending, he saw it coming a long way off. And when the time came he docked his ship for good, shed his hat and coat, and packed them away in a trunk which now sat under plenty of dusty old boxes that had been dusty and old even back when Alfred was little...
The Englishman shook his head swiftly, unwilling to delve into that much more painful part of his past, and instead turned his attention to the somewhat neglected tea, glad to find that it had not cooled enough to need reheating as he pressed down the loose tea and poured the dark liquid into his favorite mug.
Once finished, Arthur returned back to his armchair, smiling at the old novel still waiting patiently just where he'd left it.
Yes, his days of piracy and treasure and his own first-hand riveting adventures were long since passed...his life was quiet and boring and normal now. There was certainly no going back. But...at least he could always escape again for a little while into the adventures of another.
