Full Summary:

Join the infamous Strider Brothers as they set sail on the ocean blue, battling against Jake English, a notorious Royal Navy officer known for executing pirates. However, when Dirk makes the wrong decision, he ends up a sex slave for Commodore English. As war wages on the seven seas, Dirk becomes increasingly closer to Jake, helping him with Naval affairs and a birthday party for the King. Jake eventually enlists in Dirk's captaining skills and they embark on a journey that ends in pain and hatred. Friends, family, and lovers are injured and hurt, killed in battle or hung at the neck. The King is dead and has no "living' heirs. Who will take the throne after the King is hung for implied treason? Certainly not Dirk Strider, even if he is the King's son.

Warning: Language, violence, alcohol, rated M for a reason

Prologue

Dirk felt his throat tighten as he stood next to his father's throne. He couldn't feel his feet anymore. His face was frozen in a frown. He sighed through his nose, trying to keep his shoulders from drooping. He was exhausted from hours of standing stock still for a painter. The muscles of his calves tightened and his knees knocked together. He risked a glance at his younger brother who appeared to be having the same difficulties he was having. Their father shifted a bit at the painter's request.

"Look, monsieur, I don't think my boys can handle this much longer," the king sighed.

"Oh please, my lord, just a few more minutes!"

The king agreed and Dirk wanted to shout obscenities at the painter. He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. The painter finished and Dirk visibly sagged against his father's throne. His younger brother, Dave, slumped to the ground, sighing in what was either exhaustion or relief. His father patted his shoulder and got up, walking over to the painter and paying him for his services.

Dirk reached over and tapped Dave's head once their father had left the room. "There's gonna be a raid tonight and we are going with them," He whispered. Dave nodded his understanding.

"Aren't we gonna make a ship though? Our own ship?" He asked.

"Eventually, but right now, we've got to get on a ship and learn the ropes."

Dave sighed, "Do you really think we should do this Dirk?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Dirk ruffled Dave's hair. "C'mon, let's get outta theses stuffy clothes." He helped Dave up and they slipped away to their room to prepare for the raid.

Dirk hopped over the stone wall, Dave hot on his tail. He grunted as his feet hit the ground. They quickly moved away from the wall, using the shadows as their cover. The guards at the gate didn't seem to notice the two brothers make their hasty escape. Dave stumbled, letting out a yelp of surprise as his foot got tangled in the vines that littered the ground. Dirk slapped a hand over Dave's mouth, stilling instantly. Neither of them dared to breathe as they heard the guards come around the corner.

"Don't move," muttered Dirk, "don't even breath." He unclamped his hand from Dave's mouth and set to work on untangling his brother's foot from the vines. His fingers worked rapidly, stomach clenching and unclenching with both adrenaline and nerves. Dave bit his lip, watching his brother cut the vines from his foot. The moon rose from behind the clouds and Dave could see the panic etched in the lines of Dirk's face. His brother cut the last vine away from his foot and they shot off the ground, feet pounding against the damp soil.

They skirted around a corner, finally reaching the cobblestone path of the village square. They passed the execution stage, the stench of death floating in the air. Dirk coughed as the smell assaulted his nose and mouth. Dave covered his mouth and nose with his arm to avoid inhaling the scent. Their boots tapped loudly against the stone courtyard as they ran. They were close to the docks. The smell of the ocean grew more potent as they drew closer to the sea.

The blond brothers reached the docks and Dirk pressed himself and Dave against a wall. A few guards walked past them. Dirk grabbed Dave's wrist and they walked to the end of the docks. Dirk spotted a ship about to dock. It was lowering its Jolly Roger and he grinned.

"That's it," he said quietly, "that's our ticket out of here."

Dave looked at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Dirk pulled his brother along. Their steps were slow and careful. They watched the ship empty of its crew. When the last man was off the ship, Dirk and Dave made their way up and onto the deck. Their bodies were tense and they moved silently. The two brothers were standing in the middle of the deck, under the mast when a haughty voice met their ears.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my ship?" The voice wasn't angry, it was loud and booming but laced with wonder.

"I'm Dirk..." He trailed off for a moment and then came back, "I'm Dirk Strider and this is my brother, Dave." He shifted over a half step to act as a shield between the pirate and Dave.

"Caliborn," the pirate replied in turn. It was then that Dirk noticed that his mouth was covered. He cocked his head to the side, trying to make out Caliborn's face but to no avail. "Now what are you doing on my ship?"

"We want to join your crew," answered Dirk.

"Oh?" Caliborn snorted and said, "And why should I let you join my crew?" He was closer now, his forefinger tilting Dirk's chin up.

"Because…because…"

"Because…?"

There was a shout of triumph and several bags came sailing over the rail of the boat. Caliborn's crew appeared on the deck on by one. Their clothes were dark and they also wore masks over their mouths. Caliborn pointed at the two brothers, telling them to stay put. Dave, who had been silent the whole time, touched his brother's shoulder, making him jump.

"If we die tonight, I'm gonna haunt you in the afterlife," Dave whispered into Dirk's ear.

"Go right ahead," Dirk replied.

Caliborn ordered his crew to tie the two brothers to the mast. Dirk was pushed against the wood cylinder and Dave grunted in pain. Ropes were placed around them and the coarseness of the material made Dirk hiss. Their upper bodies were pressed uncomfortably against the mast and Dirk could almost see Caliborn's grin through his mask.

"Alright boys, looks like we got ourselves two more crewmates-" Caliborn started. He was interrupted by shouts of protest from the crew. "…but only if they pass initiation," He finished. This brought murmurs of consent and Dave shifted against the bonds.

"What are you going to make us do?" asked the younger.

Caliborn tapped his chin thoughtfully then looks at his quarter master, Crowbar. The man whispered in Caliborn's ear and the captain nodded.

"'S a good idea, thought I'd rather have you fight the little one."

Dirk looked at Dave who had his head cocked, trying to hear what the captain was saying. Caliborn and Crowbar broke apart and turned their attention to the brothers.

"Untie the younger, he'll go first," ordered Caliborn. There was a grumble but Dave was untied nonetheless. Dave stepped forward and a sword was thrown at him. He caught it mid-air and Caliborn whistled.

"Dave, remember what I taught you," said Dirk, eyebrows knitted together as he watched his brother's body tense up.

Dave grit his teeth at Dirk's words. He knew what to do. Crowbar glanced at Caliborn who simply nodded. The quarter master swung his arm out, sword clanking noisily against Dave's. The blond side-stepped away and lashed his arm out in retaliation to Crowbar's initial swing. His movements were precise, practiced. He didn't hold back, didn't restrain himself like he had when sparing against Dirk. The sound of their swords clinking together echoed around the ship. The crew was chanting for their quarter master. Caliborn's eyes narrowed as he watched Dave. There was something off about the boy, the way he moved and the way he swung his sword. They were clean swings, meant to disarm the opponent. This was a common type of swing with the Royal Navy, hardly ever seen on a pirate ship. It was surprising that the young boy knew the moves. Even more surprising for how well placed they were. He let his eyes drift away to Dirk's face, which was pulled into a frown. Dirk's eyes met Caliborn's and the blond smirked at him like he had won the battle.

There was a shout of surprise and a loud thump. Crowbar was lying on the deck, a sword to his throat. Dave stood over him, red eyes glistening with triumph.

"Get up Crowbar," ordered Caliborn. He walked over to Dave, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Welcome aboard, David."

Dirk's smile fell instantly and he pulled at his bonds. Crowbar got up off the deck and dusted off the back of his pants.

"Untie the elder and strip him down. When that's done, bring him to my quarters." Caliborn turned on his heel, his boots tapping against the deck as he made his way back to his quarters.

The crew stood still for a moment. They knew that the private initiation was something their captain rarely did. They all knew what was going to happen though. They knew that Dirk would be Caliborn's nightly company and it would stay that way until either one of them was dead. Crowbar barked at them to hurry up and they began their work. The crew took of Dirk's bonds then stripped him of his clothes. Crowbar placed the captain's coat around Dirk's shoulders and with his hand on the small of Dirk's back, he led him to Caliborn's quarters.

"Just a word of advice," said Crowbar, "do not resist him. It will end painfully if you do."

"Thanks," replied Dirk. He was scared of what might happen to him. It was evident in the way his muscles twitched under Crowbar's fingers. The quarter master knocked gently before opening the door. Dirk clutched the coat closer to his body and let out a shuddering breath. He looked over at Crowbar who offered a small, reassuring smile.

"You'll be okay, he likes you."

"And my brother?" asked Dirk.

"I'll take care of him."

Dirk nodded and walked slowly into Caliborn's quarters. Crowbar closed the door and Dirk froze, holding the coat tightly in his hands.

"Drop the coat Dirk and come here." Caliborn's voice echoed in the blonds' ears and he shivered. He hesitantly let the coat drop to the ground and made his way over to where Caliborn was. "There's a good boy," He cooed appreciatively. "Now why don't you greet your captain with some respect?" Caliborn shoved Dirk down onto his knees and he heard the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. The barrel pressed into his forehead, the cold metal feeling like ice against his hot skin. Dirk looked up at Caliborn and swallowed his pride.

"Get to it, prince…your life depends on it."

Dirk had been sixteen then.