Hello~!
I decided to come back with a new FrUK story! I probaably should be working in my other stories, yeah, but this story has been in the works for quiet a while.
It's a collab fic between me and Joyheart. We both worked really hard on it so we hope you like it~!
The smex scenes won't be as graphic as it should be. *coughdamnyoufanfictionbancou gh*
But~!
Joyheart is also uploading this story onto her Archive of Our Own account. The link can be found on her profile here;
www . fanfiction u / 1622098 / JoyHeart (Just take out the spaces)
This story includes FrUK, Spamano, GerIta, PruCan, and RusAme
Well, enjoy~!
Arthur Kirkland narrowed his emerald colored eyes, glaring as he slipped the telescope back into the pocket of his red naval jacket. Damn French pirates, Arthur thought, England already had enough to deal with thanks to it's own English pirates, it could certainly do without the frogs trying to control British waters. If the sea was to fall to piracy Arthur would much rather it fall to the British. Arthur glared at the three French ships in the distance, the beginnings of fear stirring in his heart. Calculations and possibilities flew through his mind as he tried to figure out a way to get out of this pinch he and his crew were in. Of all the thoughts that ran through his head, all of them ended in tragedy. He ran a hand through his short blond hair, sighing.
"Captain, what're your orders?" Alfred F. Jones demanded, coming up behind the British naval general. The young blue-eyed blonde male was his best friend, first mate, and his adopted son. Arthur wanted to give the right orders, it was obvious that Alfred was expecting them as well. Arthur sighed, irritation and anger gushing through his veins. What pissed him off the most was that the damn Frogs had him and his crew outgunned, outnumbered, and would most likely be able to quickly catch up. His thoughts drifted to his youngest brother, Peter Kirkland, who was currently hiding below deck under his orders. Arthur regretted yet again giving into his brother's pleads and sneaking him aboard; he had done it many times before, but Arthur never would have guessed that something like this would happen.
"Captain?"
With a heavy heart, Arthur turned to his first mate, determination flashing in his emerald eyes. If he was going down, then by god he'd go down fighting!
"Prepare to be boarded," Arthur comanded. "We fight, to the death if we bloody well must!"
Alfred smiled widely, the fire in his captain's eyes was infectious and the same fiery determination reflected in Alfred's eyes.
"Aye aye captain!"
The blonde quickly turned, yelling out orders to the men. Arthur cast a doubtful look back at the ships, a sinking feeling in his gut, before following his first-mate
To the man standing at the bow of the leading pirate ship, it seemed as though God was on the side of the French. Not that this surprised him, it was the case most of the time after all. His long blonde locks of hair blew forward in the breeze in a way he well knew was so sexy that some jealous men might call it obnoxious. The wind was on his side, the waves were of favourable condition as well. Not to mention that the English ship they were rapidly approaching was in no way equipped to fend off an attack from three ships. It was a good day to be a pirate captain, especially one as stunningly attractive as the man at the bow. It was a good day to be Francis Bonnefoy, of this fact he was certain.
"Préparez-vous mes amis, le goût du sang anglais est douce!" (Prepare yourselves my friends, the taste of English blood is sweet!)
His laugh rang over his crew and they roused themselves to action, preparing their swords and making ready the planks for when they would be close enough to board. Francis smiled, perhaps the most luck he had today was that their victim was the English. If there was any on earth he preferred to slaughter and steal from it was them, the British who saw themselves as masters of the seas and rulers of the world, despite not even having the slightest good taste in food or fashion! Be it English of the crown or English pirates, either one looked their best being trampled into the ground with their blood pooling around them as far as the captain was concerned.
"Pardon, mon capitaine!" (Excuse me captain!)
The soft voice of the cabin boy, Matthieu Williams, suddenly came to the captain's attention.
"Ah Matthieu! You know you may call me Papa, non?"
Matthieu's hair was as silky as the captain's, and the boy himself was so cute that Francis couldn't resist stealing him from that seaside village all those years ago. He was still as adorable as ever. It was a good thing that all those years ago Francis had gotten it in his head that Matthieu would be like a son to him, or else he probably would've deflowered the poor boy the second he reached puberty.
At the moment, Matthieu flushed red. "Ah, o-oui, um…well, I was only going to ask…do you suppose I could try to um…try to help attack the English ship? You know, this one time?"
Francis' eyes darkened. "Non, Matthieu it is too dangerous for mon petit chou, you will go below deck as usual. Go!"
Matthieu looked about to protest, but resorted to nodding glumly and making his way through the throng of eager pirates. Francis smiled. The boy did have a spirit in him, he knew better than anyone, but his fair figure was best kept out of such brutality. Finally the English ship was close enough to make out scrambling people aboard it and Francis' grin widened. They would be fools not to know that resistance was pointless. Of course he wouldn't be allowed to kill all of them, his friends Gilbert and Antonio, those captaining the other two ships in his small fleet, had already announced their desire to take some sailors in hopes of selling them as slaves. Admittedly this was a good way to make money, but Francis himself could not see why anyone would want an English slave. What with their poor sense of taste and ridiculously better-than-thou attitudes. Oh, and they were ugly too, beastly creatures. Still, Francis could at least look forward to driving his cutlass straight through the heart of the English captain. He licked his lips as his ship at last came side-along with the English and the cannons were prepared should the English attack.
He opened his mouth and gave the order, "Attaquer!" (Attack)
"Fire at will!" Arthur screeched, nearly falling over from the sudden impact of the French canons. He drew his cutlass, his men who weren't working the canons gathered right behind him, mimicking their captain in drawing their swords as well.
"For the Queen men, for the Queen!" Arthur shouted, the agreeing shouts from the men behind him filled him with pride. As soon as planks fell on each side of the ship, the English launched into attack. Arthur slashed down anyone within reach, giving in to his more violent side as he decapitated one pirate, then slashed the throat of another. In the back of his mind, he notedthat the invading ships where actually three different races; Spanish, French, and what he assumed to be German. Arthur gave a quick lookaround, pride welling in his body as he saw how good of a resistance his men were putting up.
"Art! Art!"
Arthur's heart dropped when he heard the voice. He swirled around, stabbing and shoving a Spanish man out of his way to see his youngest brother, Peter Kirkland, struggling to hold a cutlass far too heavy for him. The blue-eyed blonde English boy looked determined to try to help, but Arthur couldn't care less. Peter was in danger up on deck.
"Peter go back to my quarters!" Arthur screeched, panic clogging his senses. Peter was the only good thing in his life, and he'd be damned if he let anyone hurt Peter.
"Art, I can help!" Peter pleaded. Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but noticed movement behind his brother. Another pirate was moving towards the boy with what seemed like intentions to kill. With a rageful yell, Arthur pulled out his gun and shot the man dead. Peter turned seeing the dead man. Horror and surprised filled his soft blue eyes. Arthur rushed over to him, grabbing Peter by the scruff of his shirt and yanking him up so that Peter's gaze snapped back to his brother.
"Get to my quarters before I fill you with lead too!" Arthur hissed, shoving the boy in the direction after Peter had nodded. Arthur swirled around, his eyes daring around for his next target. A German pirate lunged at him, missing. Arthur expertly recovered and delivered a killing blow. Soon other pirates began launching at him, but the British captain made short work of them. Arthur rammed his cutlass straight through another particularly tall pirate, making Arther curse his short height, when he heard Alfred's familiar voice ring through the ship.
"Fall back! Fall back!"
"What the devil?" Arthur huffed, sliding his cutlass out and letting the dead body fall. Surprise overtook him when he noticed a man who had been standing directly behind the now dead pirate, out of Arthur's field of vision. He was tall, at least in Arthur's mind, with long wavy blonde hair tied back and clear sea blue eyes that gleamed with mischief and something like lust, with stubble growing on his chin. The man wore a thick light blue jacket, a loose white shirt underneath and tight black pants. Around his waist was a gun and an empty sword shaft. In his hand, a sword, pointed directly toward Arthur's chest. The blue eyed pirate smiled, though the smile was more lewd than anything. One of his perfectly formed eyebrows rose in challenge.
"Oh ho, would I be facing the captain of these English pigs?" the pirate laughed, his eyes gleaming. "I must say I expected a bit more of an...intimidating figure, but by the merit of your skills with a sword I have to assume as much? Still you are clearly no match for myself! God is on my side today, after all!"
He chose to stay quiet, sliding into a slight defensive crouch. At that moment another pirate, one with pale skin, white hair and red eyes like a demon, approached from the blue eyed man's left.
"Hey Francis, are you gonna talk or drive your sword through his chest? I want to start taking prisoners already!"
"Patience, Gilbert mon ami, can I not play with my food?"
"Play with it? Kesese, you think he's worth it?"
Francis' grin widened, making Arthur arch an eyebrow.
"Worth it? Well we shall have to see, I always enjoy a good duel!"
His eyes bored into Arthur's green ones, but briefly drifted upwards.
"My what...interesting eyebrows you have Angleterre. Does sea life prevent you from caring for them properly or is it the English fashion to wear them so one looks like a beast?"
"I am indeed the captain of this ship," Arthur growled, tightening his grip on the sword, the eyebrow comment stinging his pride. He pointedly refused to tell them anything other than that. Seeing the the two men's looks, Arthur growled again. "Stupid shit eating frog faces, get the bloody hell off my ship!"
In reality, Arthur knew his ship and crew were doomed, he'd known that from the start, but his protective instinct was currently overrunning his logic. He would not allow the damn pirates to find nor harm Peter. Arthur opened his mouth to speak again, but noticed Alfred, who was hiding behind some barrels, from the corner of his eye, aiming a gun at the French standing before him. Arthur drew his lips into a thin line, placing one hand behind his back and rapidly sending Alfred hand symbols. With a curt nod, Alfred pointed toward the white pirate. Arthur focused back on the French pirate, his patience gone. He lunged forward, sending an excellent strike toward the man's leg. Francis, however, was also quite experienced with a sword and quickly parried the blow, leaping backwards slightly to be out of reach before launching forward again, sending an elegant swing of the sword to Arthur's waist, slicing through his belt. There was no intention to kill just yet, if anything Francis seemed to want to humiliate the Englishman before getting to that. Arthur felt his face heating red as his uniform pants began top sag, he gripped them, quickly dodging all of the slashes aimed for his pants, blindly swinging his sword.
"Kesese!" Gilbert laughed, but it was then he happened to glance toward the barrels sitting nearby and his laughter faded. He frowned and began to search the deck. Then his eyes locked to something and he grinned again. "Hey Antonio! Way to have my back!"
"Hola amigo! You know the only one sending a bullet through your chest is me!" The tall Spanish man with chestnut coloured hair smiled calmly as he walked towards the barrels, his own gun aimed surely at the head of the man hidden there.
"Tch, that's not nice..." Gilbert pouted, folding his arms as he returned to watching Francis try his best to slice the Englishman's pants off of him.
Faintly hearing this, Arthur flicked his green eyes toward Alfred, the green orbs widening when he saw Alfred with his hands on his head, a Spanish pirate aiming a gun to the back of Alfred's head. Arthur growled, his eyes glancing toward his cabin with slight worry before looking back at the french pirate trying to slice off his pants. Francis seemed to notice the sudden flicker of his foe's eyes and he chanced a glance the same direction. Returning to exchanging blows with Arthur he decided to taunt him again.
"Oh, would the English captain be hiding his whore away from us? I hope you left her with a loaded pistol, because that is the only way she will escape pleasing the rest of my crew, non?"
"In the cabin?"
Gilbert turned toward it now, sending panic through Arthur's system.
"You want me to check it out, Fran?"
"Later mon ami, it will still be here when I'm done..."
"Well hurry up!"
"Non! Look at his face, he's going as red as a cherry, it's adorable!" Francis practically giggled, now tearing through pieces of Arthur's shirt. Arthur yelped, batting Francis's sword away.
"Phht," Gilbert snickered. "I never thought you'd call an Englishman 'adorable'."
"Hmm," Francis frowned, sending a harder swing toward Arthur's arm. However this one was uncalculated and did little more than leave an opening for Arthur to open a shallow wound across his right arm. Scowling, Francis switched his sword to his left hand.
"Perhaps you ought to check the cabin now after all, mon ami, if you are so bored."
"Right!" Gilbert cackled and headed for the cabin door.
"NO!" Arthur screamed. He abandoned his sword and fight with Francis, lunging toward Gilbert. He flung himself onto the man, sending fierce hard punches. "NO! NO! NO!"
"Ah! Little bastard! Nein! Geddoff!" Gilbert flailed about, taken by surprise by the sudden attack from the Englishman.
"Oh my! It seems the Englishman is hiding his little whore from us!" Francis' grin darkened, eyes narrowing as Arthur raised a knife that he had pulled out from his jacket.
"Non!" He said simply as he snatched a heavy piece of splintered wood from the ground and swung it heavily into the back of Arthur's head, sending him unconscious to the ground.
"Damn it, that short bastard had some arm to him." Gilbert rubbed his back as Antonio roared with laughter from his place as he watched the scene while some of his men tie Alfred's hands behind his back.
"Still does, I think," Francis said quietly, feeling for Arthur's pulse. "He still lives."
Gilbert struggled to his feet and sighed. "Well finish him off then! You want me to check the cabin?"
"Oui, that would be best," Francis said quietly as he flipped Arthur onto his back with his boot and prepared his sword. Gilbert walked off to do just that, swiftly making his way to the cabin.
"Hey, there's a kid in here!" Gilbert said suddenly. Francis paused.
"A child? Girl or boy?"
"A boy, he has the same bushy brows as the captain, think they're probably related or something," Gilbert grinned at the frightened teary-eyed boy inside. "Hey kid, that your dad out there? Too bad Fran's gonna kill him, huh?"
"Non."
"Uh?" Gilbert turned in surprise. Antonio had even ceased his endless smile.
"Amigo, are you feeling alright?" The Spainard asked, looking confused.
"I am fine." A small smile tugged at Francis' lips. "I think...I think I will bring him with me. And best bring the boy as well."
"But why?" Gilbert asked, looking a bit dejected.
Francis smirked and swept the hair from his eyes that had flattened to his forehead with sweat. Sexy sweat though, of course.
"I think I would like to see his humiliated facer a bit more before I kill him. But of course he would be difficult. I think the boy could be good...leverage..."
To this explanation, Francis' friends grinned. That was the Frenchman they knew and loved.
"Come, mon ami, I believe you wished to collect slaves?"
"HERE HERE!" came a loud cheer from across the boat.
Peter stared at his unconscious brother, tears streaming down his face. His heart was thumping with fear as he struggled against the pale pirate's grip in order to get closer to his brother. Arthur needed help.
"Pete, calm down," Alfred soothed from where he was tied. "Artie's fine."
Peter only glanced at him before staring back at his brother, willing Arthur to wake up, to get up and fight. His view was blocked as the French pirate stepped in front of him, smiling in a sickly sweet way. Peter bit his lip, his heart pounding louder. He needed to be brave, needed to be like his brother.
"S-Stupid jerk Frog!" Peter snapped, trying to imitate his brother's feriocity, but failing greatly due to the fear radiating in his blue eyes and tears streaming down his face. Francis' smile broke into a dark grin as he grasped Peter's hair, tugging his head sharply back.
"Ah, so you are the child of the captain? It's true there is a family resemblance around those beastly eyebrows. Ah, but you still have a youthful innocence about you..."
"Ne, yo Fran, Toni's supposed to be the pedophile!" Gilbert snorted, still holding Peter by the back of his shirt.
"Hey! I'm not a pedophile, Lovino was an exception!"
"Kesese! And his little brother?"
"I never did anything to him!"
"You wanted to!"
"Enough!" Francis scowled. "I have no intention of touching this boy in such a way! Though he might be a nice servant for Matthieu until I've finished playing with my dear Angleterre."
Francis' smile returned, but this time a little less creepy. Still, it was enough to freak out the young Briton, so Peter kept his guard up.
"Matthieu is my petit fils, you will get along quite well I'm sure, if you don't want your father to experience more pain than needed of course..."
Peter swallowed, afraid for himself and for his hid brother. They were both hopeless at the hands of these pirates. And that was enough to make Peter bow his head in defeat.
Short chapter is short chapter.
I'll update once a week, probably on Fridays.
However~! Reviews make me a happy Authoress and usually make me willing to give another chapter.
So, review~!
