Francis Bonnefoy hummed happily to himself as he wiped down the mahogany counter top in his tavern, The Emerald's Ire. He had a lot to be happy, one could suppose. A roof over his head, clothes on his back, a well-paying job, and a loving family.
Ah, his family. They were what made him most happy. He had two, rambunctious twin boys. Well, Alfred was the only one who was really, truly rambunctious. Matthew was more subdued, but Francis spoiled them rotten. He always got an earful from Arthur whenever he came home.
The French ex-patriot stilled for a moment, a wistful smile growing on his face, as he thought of the British man. The namesake of his tavern. The man he loved. No one besides them and the boys knew that of course. Small towns in the English countryside were welcoming to most but neither of the two men wanted a repeat of what happened in the last town they had tried to settle down in.
Not to mention the fact that Arthur was the infamous Captain Kirkland. The Frenchman's face always held a gleeful smile as he thought back to how they had met - but that was a story for another time. His husband was a pirate and was gone for ridiculous lengths of time, making Francis worry about his well-being and when he was coming back, but pirating had brought them and the boys together and would never make Arthur give it up. However, it was just another reason why Francis could only see his lover a few times out of the year, since as much as small towns hated queers, they despised pirates more.
But that was beside the point. Arthur was coming home in two days. It was for the twins' birthday and Francis couldn't wait. They were turning thirteen and their Papa was going to make sure everything was perfect. Arthur was going to make a surprise appearance and Francis could already imagine their excited faces.
Francis smiled and paused in his cleaning as he thought back over his plans. Checking and double-checking his mental checklist. Making sure everything was going to be in the right place.
A chime from the bell over the door signaled new customers and it woke Francis from his thoughts. Three men entered, none of whom Francis recognized. But that was one of the perks - or downfalls - depending on how you looked at it - of running a seaside tavern. The Frenchman scanned his newest guests. They were definitely foreign. Or at least two of them were - no Englishman was that tan. Francis honestly couldn't tell where the last man was from with sight alone. Last he checked, albinos didn't have a country all for themselves.
They were armed, but again that was usual for a port town. What was unusual was their choice in armaments. All three carried swords, different types, but swords are swords. The albino also carried a pistol while one of the tan men only wore his sword. However, the other tan man - Francis guessed he was their leader - was armed to the teeth. Aside from the nasty looking sword hanging from his belt, he felt it necessary to carry two flintlocks and an array of knives. There was also a battle axe was strapped to his back.
These men were obviously dangerous and Francis felt an immediate urge to lock Matthew and Alfred in the back room until they were gone. However, before he could make a move to do so, the three were sitting at the counter.
"Bonjour, messieurs," he said with forced cheer. He pushed his worried thoughts down. Everything would be alright as soon as he got these men out. "How can I help you?"
Now closer, Francis could more easily make out details on the men. The shortest of them was one of the tanner men. He had auburn hair with a strange curl in it. His eyes were a soft amber color, however, that softness was countered by the heavy grimace he wore. The albino was by far the tallest of the three. He had a good two heads on the shortest and about 12 centimeters on the other. He wore a sloppy, relaxed grin, but it didn't make Francis any less anxious. The last man had brown hair and wore an overly cheerful expression. He also had green eyes like Arthur, but at the same time, completely different. These eyes were cold and filled with hatred, despite the happy expression on their owner's face. Francis glanced at him cynically. Arthur had told him about an old enemy of his that matched this man remarkably close.
The one he had pegged as their leader replied flippantly, "Three glasses of your best Spanish wine."
Francis's had to hold back a grimace for two reasons. One, the man's Spanish accent marked another similarity between this man and Arthur's enemy. And, two, they didn't have any Spanish wine. Arthur refused to let him buy any because of his hatred for all things Spanish, which, in turn, was the fault of that formerly mentioned enemy.
"Desole, monsieur, but we do not carry Spanish alcohols," Francis said slowly. "But could I interest you in some Italian wines or Prussian beers?"
For some reason that got a loud laugh out of the albino. "See, Cap'? The Frenchy here knows his spirits."
Francis smiled uncomfortably. "Merci."
"Shut up, you beer bastard," said the shortest of the group with an Italian accent.
It was obviously meant to offend but the albino just laughed even harder. "Oh, c'mon, Lovi. You need to work on your insults."
"My name's Lovino! You-you-you-!" the Italian spluttered.
Their leader slammed his fist down on the counter and Francis started in surprise. "Gilbert. Lovino," he snapped harshly, cheerful demeanor dropping for a moment. The two immediately ceased their bickering. When he turned back to Francis, his happy smile was back in full force.
"Lo siento. They act like such children sometimes," the Spaniard apologized.
Francis nodded. He wasn't sure why, but better safe than sorry.
The scary green eyed man went on without acknowledging his response. "So, Senor Bar-keep, I was wondering if you could confirm a little rumor I've heard floating around."
The Frenchman opened his mouth to respond, but the man continued. "It's just that I hear that a certain pirate likes to visit these parts. Name 'Kirkland' ring any bells?"
Francis nearly dropped the glass he had been wiping. "N-Non, monsieur. I have never heard of him."
The Spaniard cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Que es muy sorprendente. I talked to the people around here and they mentioned a 'Kirkland' visiting this very tavern almost, hmm… What was it…? Ah! Right!" The man's voice dropped to a level that screamed of danger. "Five times a year. And stays in this tavern for a week. I don't know how you could miss him."
Francis flinched as he was caught in his lie. He opened his mouth to stammer out something, anything, that would fix this. But before he could retrieve a single word, Alfred and Matthew came barreling down the stairs and into their papa's legs.
Francis's blue eyes widened in panic. The boys should not be here. This was bad. Very bad.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Boys, why don't you go play in the yard?"
Matthew quickly picked up on the Frenchman's anxiety. "Papa, what's wrong?" he asked, pulling on his sleeve and squeezing his toy bear.
Francis tried to smile happily, but he doubted that it fooled anyone. "Nothing's wrong. But I really think you and your brother should go and play now." He was careful not to say their names. Giving out that sort of information could be a danger to their lives.
"No, no," said the green eyed Spaniard. "These are your ninos, si? Let them stay." The man turned towards Alfred, already sensing that he was the more open of the two boys. He shot the little boy a grin. "And what are your names?"
"I'm Alfred," he said proudly. "And I'm twelve!"
"No you're not!" shouted the other boy. "We're still only eleven." His voice turned to a whisper as he continued. "Our birthday isn't for another two days. And my name's Matthew."
And with that, half of what Francis was trying to protect went out the window. As he racked his brain for a way to get Alfred and Matthew away from these dangerous men, he gazed around at the tavern and was surprised to see that a few more guests had trickled in while he was talking with the Spaniard.
That was perfect.
"Alfred, Matthieu, would you mind helping your papa out for a bit?"
The boys nodded and grinned at him. They loved it when Papa gave them grown-up jobs.
Francis smiled back. "Bein. Can you take the orders of those tables back there?" he said, pointing to the recently filled tables. The boys nodded once more and Matthew grabbed one of the billing sheets from under the counter.
Alfred, however, was already making his way around the end of the counter. The green-eyed man gave a nearly imperceptible nod to Gilbert and the albino was at the end of the counter. He put the boy in a headlock and picked him up.
Then everything happened at once. The Spaniard stood, knocked over his bar stool, and fired one round into the ceiling. A woman screamed and the Italian began ordering patrons out.
When the chaos died down, Francis surveyed the room in fear. Three new men had joined the first group. A tall, muscled blonde, another Italian, and, surprisingly, an Asian. However, Francis' eyes landed on his son struggling in the albino's hold and intense rage filled him. He pulled Matthew closer to him and the boy clung even harder to his shirt.
The Frenchman's eyes narrowed at the Spanish leader. "Release my son," he commanded.
Instead, the man just laughed. "You're not really in any position to make demands, now are you, Senor Bar-keep?" He aimed his pistol between Alfred's eyes and Francis felt a wave of fear rush through him. The Spaniard kept talking. "Now, if you sit down over there and don't lie to me anymore, I won't mess up that pretty little face of his? Comprende?"
Francis gulped but nodded. He didn't let go of Matthew as he walked to the table the man had motioned to. He sat down and pulled the blonde boy onto his lap.
The Frenchman looked back up the Spaniard's face as he sat across from him. That happy little smile was back. "Now, I realize that we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Caiptan of the Spanish Gold and leader of her pirate crew."
That confirmed all the suspicions Francis had about the man's identity. This was definitely the man Arthur had warned him about. He had said this man would stop at nothing to hurt him. They were in grave danger and Francis had walked them straight into it.
When Francis didn't respond, Antonio began getting impatient. He slammed his fists into the table. "Answer the question before I blow his brains out!"
The shout made Francis jump, which in turn, startled Matthew and starting his tears afresh. "Francis!" he answered quickly, "Francis Bonnefoy."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Senor Bonnefoy." And with that his happy-go-lucky attitude was back. "Now. Down to business. How do you know Kirkland?"
"H-He comes around every once in awhile."
Antonio's smiled never wavered. "Really?" He pushed the barrel of the gun into Alfred's forehead and cocked it. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't lie to me anymore, Senor Bonnefoy." The man sighed disappointedly. "Oh well."
"NON!" Francis screamed as Antonio's finger moved towards the trigger. "Je suis desole! Desole! S'il vous plait! Ne pas! Je vais dire la verite! Je promets! Je promets!"
Antonio slowly lowered the gun and re-affixed his smile. "Bueno. Where were we? Ah, yes. What's your relation to Kirkland?"
Francis squeezed his eyes shut. He just couldn't face them. It wasn't out embarrassment - his and Arthur's relationship could never embarrass him. It was out of fear. Because he knew as soon as these pirates knew that, he and the boys would never be able to return to this life.
He took a deep breath and spoke. "Arthur- He and I- We're lovers."
"And the boys?"
"They're our sons."
Francis chanced a glance up at the pirate sitting across from him. The man was grinning from ear to ear and, unlike any of the other smiles Francis had seen, it actually reached his eyes. "Well, this is an desarrollo interesante. Tell me, when will Kirkland be back?"
The Frenchman looked down at the boy in his lap and then at the terrified face of Alfred. "Two days," he said. Tears threatened to leak out of his eyes. "For their birthday."
Disregarding Francis' display of emotion, Antonio stood. "Right then," he said and clapped his hands for attention. "Gilbert, Ludwig, Feliciano: take these three back to the ship. Gilbert, you know what to do. Lovino, Kiku: ready the torches."
Francis' eyes widened in horror as he realized what the pirates were going to do to him, the boys, and his home. "No! S'il vous plait! Don't do this! There has to be something-"
His pleas fell on deaf ears as he was swiftly backhanded. He fell out of the chair, displacing Matthew. The boy dropped his stuffed bear and it was picked up by the Italian who came in with Antonio. Matthew's hands were quickly snatched up by the other Italian. The muscular blonde hoisted the Frenchman off the floor. Without letting go of Alfred, the albino headed towards the door and the two holding Francis and Matthew quickly followed.
"Just get them to the ship," Antonio commanded.
They were dragged roughly through the streets. Onlookers stared, but did nothing to help. Gilbert set a brisk pace and Francis could tell Matthew and even the pirate that held him were struggling to keep up.
Suddenly, Francis heard a loud clamor coming from the place they had just left. He turned his head hoping beyond hope that what he saw wasn't real. But it was. It was all so real.
The Emerald Ire was burning. And it would burn to the ground.
Francis felt tears coat his face as Ludwig continued to drag him away as flames ate away at his home.
He could only pray that the same fate did not befall the tavern's namesake.
A/N: I'm only doing the not obvious translations. Anyone with any knowledge of either Spanish or French should know at least some of these words. Also, I don't have a foreign language keyboard so I know I'm missing some important letter thingies.
Translations:
Desole, monsieur - So sorry, sir
Lo siento - Sorry
Que es muy sorprendente - That is very surprising
Caiptan - Captain
Je suis desole! Desole! S'il vous plait! Ne pas! Je vais dire la verite! Je promets! Je promets! - I'm sorry! So sorry! Please! Don't! I'll tell the truth! I promise! I promise!
desarrollo interesante - interesting development
A/N: I hope you liked this as much as I do. Thanks for reading! And don't forget: any comments, questions, or snide remarks go in a review!