Revenge of the Rose

Chapter One

She took a deep, desperate breath. The air was muggy, matching her surroundings, but it had a hint of crisp saltiness to it. She tried to cling to the fresh part of the air, willing herself to ignore the stench that could only be described as death with a hint of shit. It had her gagging every other second. The light filtered down from above, with angry boots clanking against the boards causing bits of dust to flutter down on occasion. The slap of the waves was unrelenting and rocked the ship to and from, leaving her clenching the metal bars for stability as she screamed herself hoarse. It felt like she hadn't stopped screaming since she began this nightmare, but her current screams came from her abrupt awakening to cannon fire. She choked back sobs, and violent screams, as the familiar scent of blood filled the air again. Her cries were drowned out by the men fighting above, their swords bashing against each other with the occasional gunshot and cannon adding to the madness. The metallic cries of the swords clashing and the blood-fueled voices of angry men filled the air, yet all this had an oddly muffled tone to them from her prison cell below.

There was a splintering sound of wood breaking and a sudden rush as water started lapping at her feet. She felt herself screaming louder, reaching a note that was desperate, animal even. Tears welled up in her that she fought with a violent dismissive swipe of her hand. She had to survive. She wasn't going to go out like this, helplessly locked in a prison cell. She cursed loudly to herself, finally feeling the helpless panic start to settle at the sound of a tangible word instead of incoherent screaming. Get your head back, she said as she started to pace her cell. Deep breaths, she reminded herself. She bent slightly at the waist, letting her hands fall against her knees as she doubled over. Now look around you, she ordered herself.

Her eyes were used to the faint light, and had been since she had woken up to the horrific battle that was raging on above her. She had forgotten where she was when she first awoke, lost in her dreams of her past, when her life had still been happy. The sound of cannons had woken her and she was unable to control her immediate reaction. Her boots started to slosh in the water at her feet. She didn't know how to swim, but she had seen it done once or twice. She was sure she could mimic the instinct, at least that's what she told herself as she eyed the rising water wearily. She kept scanning the floor, looking for something that maybe her captors had forgotten that she could use, her eyes suddenly landed on a nail that was hammered in sloppily in the corner of her cell. She ran to it, thankful that the water wasn't too high to over it or make her hands slip as she yanked it out with a grunt.

She was able to quickly pick the lock after that. The door sprang to the side as if begging her to run. But she wasn't about to charge up the stairs into a battle that she wanted nothing to do with.

She found a burlap sack full of rope that she emptied out. She was able to dig around a bit more before she found a small crow bar, a dull knife, a whole bushel of apples (which she quickly devoured one and threw a few more in the bag), a broken compass, and a few of her own personal items. She used a layer of her ruined dress to make a makeshift sack and placed the burlap and its contents at her side. She kept the knife out, moving to the side of the stairs and keeping her eyes on the rising water level. She would wait until the battle stopped and then hope that no one made their way down here. From the sounds of things upstairs the fighting would stop soon. Her stomach churned as she thought of a few faces she never wanted to see again alive or dead that were up there. She wasn't sure who was fighting but she hoped that they won. That would leave her with the best escaping situation. If her captors won... well maybe drowning wasn't such a bad option.

There was a sudden stop to the noise above, it wasn't the slowly dying out that she expected, just sudden unnerving quietness. For a split and foolish second she thought that maybe he had come to rescue her, but she quickly stomped out that thought. Her heart breaking slightly with it.

"Madam Belle," a voice called down to her causing her to gasp despite herself. Despite the hole from the blast from earlier that had woken her up there was little light in her cell, it was still extremely dark down where she was. There was a sudden thump from above near the stairs and bright light came streaming down. She blinked rapidly trying to adjust her eyes as she approached the bottom of the stairs and looked up at the silhouette.

"Monsieur," she called up evenly, careful to keep her eyes trained on the rising water below as she slowly backed up. Her immediate concern was to get to the stairs and out of her corner that she had placed herself in, but keeping in mind that the voice that was calling to her might not be friend.

"This boat is about to be abandoned. Would you like to make some more comfortable quarters aboard our ship?" The voice had a cheeky and demanding tone, almost impatient.

"Doesn't seem like I have much choice in the matter?" She answered finally deciding to move up on the steps. There was sudden light as the man moved and she looked directly up at the sun. Her blinking increased as tears streamed from her light deprived eyes.

"No, that ye don't," the man answered catching her gently at the top of the stairs and pulling her on to the deck.

Without distance between them his thick English accent was much more apparent and the informal way he spoke said he neither cared nor was worried about his situation. It took her a moment more to gather her surroundings. Her captors laid dead and strewn around the deck, an alarmingly few number of survivors were gathered at the hull defeated. The French flag was being pulled down from the mast and folded carefully by a pair of rugged unfamiliar men.

Pirates, she noted quickly and silently. She shot a glance to their ship looking for their jolly roger. A plain skull and crossed bones on a black flag left her feeling confused. She was sure she had seen that mark in a book, an older book but she dismissed it. That pirate was supposed to be dead. However if this was a knock off she might have a chance. A pirate that supposedly had some chivalry would be better than a bloodthirsty one.

She felt a quick sharp pull on her arm whipping her around to the man from before.

"Now miss, best not get lost in that head of yours just yet," he cooed leaning in a bit too close for her comfort, causing her to place a hand between them. He laughed and ushered her roughly to the plank between the ships, tugging her along with sure quick steps.

He had a large noise and sharp blue eyes that pierced her with a warning gaze. His black hat had a large wispy white feather protruding from it. An overall gruffness exuding from him, but more so as she examined his face which was tanned and leathered from the harsh spray of the sea. The long hair that framed his face was a mixture of thick black curls sprinkled in with hints of sliver and gray. He was aging, and old pirates were rare.

"Captain," a fellow soldier called, "orders for the survivors?"

"See if any fellow would like to join us in our wicked ways, and if they refuse," he paused dramatically giving the man a knowing smirk. His grip tightened on her arm in a threatening way, "kill them."

She knew she should have protested, her title demanded that she demand the innocent be spared but a small part of her was elated to not have to worry anymore. To not have to pretend and keep a pretense with her captors for the sake of her love. She turned slightly to hide her relief despite the pirate's obvious attempt to get a reaction of fear from her. When she said nothing, he kept pulling her along.

They quickly reached the captain's quarters made obvious by the luxurious wooden doors and the placement on the ship. She didn't know much about sailing, a silly mistake for such a venturous girl, and she vowed to herself that she would read up on it as much as possible when the opportunity presented itself.

"We have much to discuss," he purred and shoved her inside, "but I have a few matters to attend to first." The door slammed shut behind her, followed by a few undiscernible shouts.

She sighed. Not sure what else to do with herself she wandered in. There were several windows that lit the room wonderfully. A large desk centered the room framed with large curtains that seemed to hide doors or treasures depending on where they were in the room. There were two hallways on each side, one leading to a bedroom, for the door was wide open and showed a large feathery bed, and the other she couldn't tell for the door was closed. Forever curious she made her way to the closed door, careful to open the door slowly and peep in only to be disappointed by a plain dining room. Her eyes caught a glance at the full-length mirror. She settled in front of it for a moment. Her brown dress was filthy and tattered, and clung to her in an unflattering way. She had lost weight but not much to make her look sickly. Despite her dress's appearance she was rather clean, her skin white from lack of sunshine but otherwise unblemished. She fingered at the locket of her beloved around her neck, carefully enclosed and out of view. Her long brown hair was unkempt and knotted, framing her face. Her brown eyes were weary and she had dark circles surrounding her eyes but she miraculously noted that she hadn't lost the kindness in them despite everything. Her fingers ran up and touched her lips awed at how different she looked but so much the same. She sighed, unable to study herself longer without trying to look for traces of him on her.

She meandered back to the large desk, careful not to touch the papers that were placed about, glancing over the maps and their contents with mild interest. She found herself settling in to the large plush chair, the captain's no doubt, glaring at the door and wishing the knife in her grasp was sharper so she could throw it the moment the door opened.

There was a loud bang, as the ship began to pull away from its defeated prey. She looked out from the window and she watched as the last of her captors sank to the sea. It had sustained too much damaged during the battle and they were too far from any ports for them to fix it up. That much she knew about captured ships, not all of them made it. There were no books to entertain herself which she realized after a prolonged amount of time, but there hadn't been much entertainment since her capture. She felt her mind going numb as she settled in, losing herself into a trance like state. It was pure heaven compared to what she had been experiencing with her emotions lately. She didn't notice that the sun had been down for hours and that darkness overcame the room until there was a sudden burst of light from the torch that was brought in.

"You've made yourself comfortable," the pirate mused chuckling to himself. "We'll have dinner shortly Madam," he added strolling in to the room and lighting candles as he did. The door seemed to magically swing shut behind him.

She didn't have anything to say. Not sure how she was supposed to react, a common girl, made princess, to commoner once again. How does one address a pirate? How does one address a pirate when you want something from them?

"Now you are a beauty," he mused lighting candles on the desk glancing at her but not really taking her in.

"So I've been told," she half growled. She settled on sprawling her arms out over the desk and leaning forward slightly. An intimidating and assertive move. She did it naturally unaware until she was inches from his face that she was leaning in.

"I want revenge," she whispered.

A/N: Hey loyal readers and new readers alike I'm back from a very, very long break. While I have been neglecting this site I've had a lot of life changes. I decided to make my comeback with a new fanfic and I'll try and update my old stuff when I get a chance. Hope you guys like this twisted fairytale. More to come soon ;)

~~Oceanwind