AN: Greetings! I come in peace, and I bring sappy stories. You know you love me XOXOemilylime
Capture
William stood stiffly next to his father. A breeze from the sea whipped his dark hair untidy, but he did not bother to rearrange it. He was too interested in the goings-on farther down the ship.
A relatively new crewmember was hoisting himself back aboard, leaving the wreckage of a once grand ship where he had previously stood.
"Captain?" he called once he had his own two feet back on the deck.
From the corner of his eye, William saw his father release the enormous wooden wheel of the vessel and stride up to the balcony of sorts that overlooked the large deck. He did not rush, but positively exuded elegance.
"What of the vessel?" he asked, just like he always did when they took down a new ship.
"Completely destroyed," he responded. Before the captain replied, the crewman added, "Two survivors."
"Bring them aboard," responded the captain. The crewman nodded, motioned for several men to follow and hurried out of sight.
Within seconds a ratty-looking man scurried onto the deck untidily, as if he was very unaccustomed to the way the ship tossed in the sea. He was saying something in a rapid voice that William could tell was dripping with humble praise. What he was saying was unclear, but by the way that the burly men seemed to recoil from him left little to the imagination. William smirked.
There was a lot of noise on the deck. People were doing their usual chores, and even more were just standing about the ship, waiting around for a share of any gold that might be plundered. But William had never heard anything quite like the noise that now pierced the atmosphere. He winced as the distinctly feminine scream washed over him, and he saw many of the crew actually clapping their hands over their ears.
The source of the noise was soon revealed. The four members of the crew who had been dispatched onto the ship were now hauling a screeching young woman onto the deck. She was clearly fighting tooth and nail against them, but they had her under relative control. All she could really do was madly toss her head and try to squirm out of the vice-grip in which they held her arms. William's smirk broadened when he noticed what she was wearing. A beautifully embroidered yellow silk dress, with her auburn hair piled up in curls that were starting to fall past her shoulders in her desperation. He snorted. She was still holding a matching lace fan. Typical upper class woman.
The crewmembers threw her onto the deck and backed away, making sure that she didn't try to run. But where could she escape to? William wondered. The same notion appeared to occur to her, because she didn't try to run.
The blonde first mate, who was standing to the right of William's father, turned toward him.
"Darcy, could that be a daughter of his?" he asked. Captain Darcy's lips parted to release the word, "Possibly," before closing again. He was examining the girl intently.
A handsome man that William recognized as his friend Charles approached the girl.
"What is your name?" he asked slowly and kindly.
The girl just stared blankly at him.
"Your name?" Charles asked again.
The girl just blinked at him for several moments. Then she said, "Je ne parle pas anglais," in a haughty voice.
A monster of a man then walked from the crowd and shoved Charles aside. He lowered himself to the girl's level and asked her the same question in broken French.
She just stared blankly at him.
Infuriated, the oaf slapped her with one of his meaty hands.
William could just barely make out an expression beyond shocked on her face. In fact, she looked infuriated. Angrier than any woman he had ever seen.
She stood up as tall as she could and slapped the man back, fan in hand. He staggered from the blow.
"Your French is terrible," she declared in perfect English.
The man whirled around and seized her petite neck.
"Your name," he growled, lifting her a good foot off the ground.
"Elizabeth Bennett," she gasped, after unsuccessfully trying to kick him.
He dropped her. She collapsed onto the deck. As she immediately attempted to right herself, several crewmen seized her. Charles turned to the captain with a perplexed look on his face.
"Your orders, sir?" the young man asked.
"Lock her in my quarters for now," responded William's father.
The crewmen laughed and dragged Elizabeth down below the decks.
"What of the other, Captain?" asked Charles.
The other captive came groveling as if on cue.
"Please, my dearest master, my merciful savior," the squat man whimpered, throwing himself at Captain Darcy's feet. William's father remained unaffected.
"Your name?" he asked.
"Collins," he replied. "I manage the finances of the Bennett… er, family."
"Take him where Elizabeth is, son," he said, this time addressing William.
William started.
"Of course father," he replied stiffly. He strode towards the stairs that led to the below-decks and without ever needing to use force, guided the ever brown-nosing man right to his father's quarters. He quietly opened the door and escorted the man in, briefly catching Elizabeth's eyes before he turned on his heel and walked right back out the door, taking care to lock it once it was shut.
As night fell, Fitzwilliam Darcy Jr. returned to his bunks and eased himself onto a hammock, shutting his eyes and getting as comfortable as was possible on the canvas bed. The deep chocolate eyes of Elizabeth Bennett did not go away.