Fog began to clear as the sun shone brightly from it's sleep, stretching and yawning.

Chains dragged roughly against the shining ground.

It was early, (probably six 7:30 a.m. in modern time to give you a good idea.) The capital of London was busy, and full of excitement. "Father! Father! What's going about?" A townsman gripped his son's hand tightly and smiled down at him before lifting the youngling up onto his shoulders. "The king has declared a death sentence this morning." The boy gasped with glee. "A hanging a hanging!"

Heavy fatigued footsteps began to trudge across the ground. Gloomy eyes held no hope as their holders would slouch as if hosting a sickness inside the vessel. Other's stood tall with pride as they walked up to the wooden length of wood. The hanging blocks. They stood in front of their ropes as if it were some robotic act. Second nature of the sort. A group of red coats came up onto the block to order the prisoners to stand onto their stools while the noose was tied and fastened around their worn necks. A voice echoed in the now still and quiet air.

The sound of parchment unrolling could be heard. " 'Ye and each of 'ye are adjudged and sentenced to be carried back to the place from whence you came, thence to the place of execution, and there within the flood marks to be hanged by the neck till you are dead, dead, dead, and the Lord, in His infinite wisdom have mercy upon your souls…After this 'ye, and each of ye shall be taken down and your bodies hung in chains…."

The sound of a coin dropping could be heard. "Oi! You there! Open your eyes! Are you too much of a coward to face your own capital while you suffer and live through a death sentence?!"

A head lifted up to face the crowd. Eyelids lifted to reveal a pair of intense emerald eyes. "Nay."

Such conversations were typical in the time period. After all, not many people could be excited about anything. For example, when Kind Henry the VIII decided to separate from the Roman-Catholic Church in 1534, for selfish reasons at that, the country converted into Protestantism. Though the Spanish were greatly angered, they held their tongues, that is, until a certain British pirate decided it well to buccaneer and pillage a Spanish fleet and rob it of it's treasures. Of course this act angered the Spanish and they desperately urged the Queen, Elizabeth, to deliver a punishment and return their gold. However, they only were let down to find out that such a man was actually knighted by none other than her majesty. The alliance with Spain was broken as a result and the two grew to become enemies.

Spain could have continued being the strongest of all nations, that is if he didn't loose his temper and send his Armada into the English Channel. Under Elizabeth's command, her favorite 'privateer going pirate' wiped the whole of it out. The year was 1588

So, known before, Spain had been the leading imperial power for a good stretch of time and Britain was tamed, having no real interest in colonizing. However, it didn't take long for those brits to become envious. Especially when their power source was activated. It all happened one morning. As you know, the Age of Discovery and Colonization took place at the immediate end of Medieval times in the late 1400s throughout the 1800s. The English didn't start until the 1600s and that my dear is where our little story takes place. Captain Arthur Kirkland, an infamous pirate. Such tales a child couldn't sleep after hearing his dreadful stories. Women both feared and adored him. Men were all of confused emotions. At first, regarded as a good boy before rebelling against the French. He was at first, a privateer. One who sails for the king. Yes he could be considered such, but his enigma was so much more like a pirate, he fit into that name and it's category much nicer than he would of a privateer with the crimes he committed.

So what was this power source? This mighty trigger that transformed our noble privateer into an infamous pirate? The key, lies within the death of Her majesty Queen Elizabeth the first in 1603 due to blood poisoning. Most likely caused by the iron used n her white powdered makeup. It tore a large gash into Arthur's heart. He was known to scream. His cries would scratch at the city's walls from Lizzy's death bed. Tears began to fill the English channel. His lovely full eyes grew empty and cold. The warm forest marsh seen in his eyes became a piercing emerald gaze that cut like knives beyond it's seductive glow. His face matured into an understanding only known through a growth of heartbreak. The kind of sickening chest feeling that could cause one to feel nausea. With time, Arthur grew stronger. Arthur was complete in his elapse to piracy that occurred during Elizabeth's rule. He was cold. He was no longer the sweet and gullible boy that Francis and his brother's came to know and love. He was empty. And...He was Lizzy's secret lover. For she said, "I Have married my country. And I shall de with it."

~ Arthur E. Kirkland

CRACK

CRACK CRACK SNAP

"Filthy pirate!"

Footsteps sounded down the cobblestone road, people pushed aside as the British soldiers chased quicker feet.

A cruel laughter sounded from smiling lips. The pirate spun his pistol round his finger as he slipped it into his sash and began to climb a rope. Bullets wizzed passed him, just missing him by mere inches. The clinking of chains was becoming rather annoying and a nuisance to his concentration.

Sweat began to form around his hairline and Arthur could feel his muscles contracting in his forearms and the slight numbness of his fingers which attempted to hold him up whilst he climbed the unfriendly rope.

"Surrender!" A bullet shot the rope, grazing it. This only satisfied the pirate's needs as he swung to the nearest dock and ran to the nearest blacksmith's shop. The morning light seeped through the holes in the walls caused by bullets of previous escapes. he wet to cut his chains on a rotator after he got the mule running. He smirked and then slowly worked them off.

Arthur rolled his shoulders back a few times and stood tall, as he began to rub at the worn sin of his wrists. A smirk grew and he tightened his sash. Walking to the back door, he grabbed a sword just in time to hear shouts and the front door open. He turned around swiftly and blocked bullets with his sword, sending them dodging. In the process, he swung his sword into the nearest pillar, cutting a rope and sending it flying upwards. He grabbed it and flew up with it as a load of cannon balls came crashing down from a wooden lift, blocking off some, slowing the other soldiers even. The Englishman released the rope and jumped through an open window, running along the roof top and gaining speed before jumping down onto the floor.

More people would scuffle out of the way as the chase went on, the more of his majesty's men would notice Soon he was arriving to the docks, he could see them from where he was as he climbed buildings and ran to the docks, missing bullets and sometimes getting grazed before jumping off the rooftop and onto the deck of his beloved ship. Both pirate and loyalist stood frozen in a short-lived shock or astonishment. The fact that Arthur could make that jump was remarkable. Though not supernatural. Guns kept reloading and firing as the ship slowly left the coasts of England.

A/N: Sooo yeah I have been wanting to write this one for a while and I finally started. I had writers block for my other Hetafic. W Well. Now I need to go and try and finish that one. toodleloo