I apologize for starting two stories at once, but I couldn't help myself :P Don't worry, updates will be as regular and prompt as college life allows. As for the title, it was one of my favorite songs of the entire movie franchise, and it struck me as a better fit than 'Yo-ho, Yo-ho'.


Lovina Vargas was scowling. Her normal expression wasn't exactly a cheerful face to begin with, but when she scowled, she meant it.

"No. No way. I am not wearing that damned thing."

"Lady Lovina," snapped the lady in waiting, hands on hips. She was one of the few who'd dealt with the girl enough to not be shocked by her foul mouth anymore. Now she skipped right to the irritated stage. "You are a Christian woman, you must watch your language."

"It doesn't matter if I swear or not, I'm still not wearing that," said Lovina, marching over to her balcony. She wore only her dressing gown, but her level of modesty was lower than average.

"Your sister did."

Dainty fists curled on the cement ledge. Your sister did this, your sister did that. Lovina was sick and tired of being compared to her twin sister. Feliciana was only a minute younger, but it could have been years for all the difference it made. They were identical physically, aside from their hair and eyes. While Lovina had brown hair and olive green eyes, Feliciana had auburn hair and bright amber eyes. Lovina was taciturn and bristly, Feliciana was bright and cheerful.

The worst of it was, Lovina didn't blame anyone for liking her sister better. Feliciana was just…likeable, and she didn't even know she was doing it.

Both were raised by their grandfather, a rich Italian noble, who loved them both dearly. It was simply he had an easier time handling Feliciana. She had even chosen, of her own free will, to marry the younger son of one of his best friends. He approved, of course, though what her sister saw in the stiff German Lovina would never know. The older brother had turned into a pirate for pities sake!

Meanwhile, he's searching for anyone to marry me, thought Lovina bitterly. It wasn't as if she made it any easier, either. If Feliciana could marry for love, than so could she. Lovina was well aware her grandfather just wanted to know they would be taken care of once he was gone, but still.

"Please, Lady Lovina, at least try it."

Lovina slowly turned to look at the dress. It was tight at the waist, and had an impossibly wide skirt. It was full of frills, lace, ribbons, and looked highly uncomfortable. It did also promise to promote the bust area, which was no doubt why Feliciana had eagerly slipped into it. Ludwig and his grandfather were due to arrive for a visit today, and, though incredibly ditsy, Feliciana knew exactly how to make her fiancé blush.

"Fine," she growled.

Promptly five minutes later, she was regretting it.

"I think that's tight enough," she wheezed, clutching the bed post.

"It's the height of style in London," pointed out the lady in waiting, giving the corset one last tug before tying it off.

"Just because some pompous London bitches decided they didn't want to breathe, doesn't mean I have to suffer," said Lovina, still out of breath.

The lady in waiting sighed, adjusting the last of the dress around her. "Honestly, to hear you talk, one would think you were an urchin instead of a lady."

"Urchin's don't have to wear damned corsets," said Lovina, trudging in dainty slippers to the door. "Let's go show Nonno so I can take it off."

BREAK/BREAK\BREAK

That night, as the moon rose in the sky, Lovina slipped out the back of the house, lantern in hand. She wore one of her comfortable, corset-less dresses. This one was simple wine red, ended just above her ankles, and barely covered half her upper arms. No shoes adorned her feet.

There were dark clouds to the south, threatening rain before morning. Lovina wanted to make sure her garden would be alright, make any last-minute preparations for the coming storm.

Lovina loved tomatoes as much as her twin loved cats and pasta. This little garden, with its seven rows of tomato plants, was her favorite place, her safe haven. She'd tended it earlier, but now she fussed slightly, making sure the earth was just damp enough, pulling a few stray weeds.

"They are well cared for, señorita," a soft, Spanish-accent voice said.

Lovina squeaked, popping to her feet in the middle of her garden, almost crushing a plant. When she located the figure, though, she scowled. He was standing by the back gate, which was usually left open anyway. Roma had the estate well guarded, but he was also a kind man. The gate by the kitchens and small gardens was left open at times, particularly in the winter, so beggars and homeless folk could find shelter here.

"Don't sneak up on me, Spanish bastard," snapped Lovina, glaring at him as she carefully separated herself from her precious garden.

The man, though he seemed young, was hunched over and had a limp as he hobbled next to the far side of the garden. He wore layers of ratty, moth-eaten rags, even though it was summer. All she could really see were the mud-caked bare feet, and dancing emerald eyes in the shadow of a sack hood. Even then, it was only because of the lantern she'd set on the upturned bucket near him.

"I'm sorry, señorita, I didn't mean to startle you. I was just admiring your garden. Do you tend it for your mistress?"

Lovina flushed. "No, it's mine. I tend it for myself."

Hidden eyebrows lifted. "I wasn't aware servants were allowed privet gardens on the grounds of nobles."

"I'm not a servant, idiota," snapped Lovina. "I'm a lady."

The hunched figure preformed a fluid, if small bow, ducking his head. "My mistake, my lady. I am not accustomed to nobility with such tastes."

"What's that supposed to mean?" demanded Lovina, hands on hips. "Why'd you even stop, anyway?"

"I love tomatoes," he said with a shrug. "It is not often I met someone with the same passion for them that I have. That is the only way they grow like this, sì? The Lord gave us all a gift, and I think this is yours, my lady."

Lovina hesitated. Then she stepped over to a short wooden container, and lifted the lid. She selected a tomato she had plucked earlier that day, and replaced the lid. Walking over to the begger, she held it out to him.

"Flatery doesn't work of me, bastardo, but take it anyway. Grandpa Roma keeps a place over there where you can spend the night. You might want it, a storm is coming."

Hands that matched his feet apeared, lightly plucking the fruit from her hand. Emerald eyes met hers.

"Gracias, my lady," he said, giving anouther hunch-backed bow.

Lovina watched him as he half hobbled, half shuffled to the building she'd pointed out. Only when he'd disapeared inside did she return to her garden.

When she returned to her bed that night, she found it hard to fall asleep. As it was, when she did, it seemed like only moments when she was woken again.

Lovina sat up in her bed, nose twitching. What was that, smoke?

Quickly, she scrambled from her bed and threw open the heavy wooden doors of her balcony. The city outside the house gates was in utter chaios. Fires were springing up everywhere, peaple were screaming and running amuck in utter panic. The chuch bell tolled a warning to those who weren't already aware.

Worst of all was the figures in the harbor, silueted by burning, sinking ships. A great pirate ship, flying the jolly rodger, flanked by two slightly smaller ones. It was one of the few ships not on fire.

Hurridly, Lovina ran back into her room. She stripped off her nightgown, donning instead the red dress she had worn earlier. She was tugging on her boots when her door flew open, Fleiciana bursting in. She looked like she had thrown on her blue dress in a hurry, boots of her own addorning her feet. She clutched a gray cat in her arms, eyes wide in fear.

"What's going on, where's Nonno?"

"Come on," said Lovina, running passed her and grabbing her arm as she went. "We have to get out of here."

"What about Nonno? And Luddy?"

"They'll be fine, they're men, remember? They can fight, and Nonno is a vetren. We don't know how to use swords. We have to get to the church."

As they ran down the stairs, something big rammed loudly against the front doors. The sisters skidded to a halt, gasping as they stared at it. The huge, iron belted and studded door wasn't easy to budge, but that bang had sounded like thunder. Gaurds were gathering in the main room, brandishing weapons as they tucked in night shirts.

BANG!

"They're coming in," said Lovina, dragging her sister back into the house. "This way!"

"Why us?" asked Feliciana, eyes the sise of saucers.

"This is the lord's house, remember? We're nobles, nobles have money."

"If we give it up, will they leave us alone?"

"I doubt it," said Lovina, bursting out the kitchen door. Servents were running every which way, some raiding the kitchen for weapons, others following Lovina's planed escape route.

"Where's Nonno?" pleaded Feliciana.

"Shut up!"

Lovina hated snapping at her sister, but there was no time now.

They ran out through the gate and into the back allies. Ignoring the filthy area they had come out through, the sisters followed the fleeing scullery maids through the back streets, coming out on a main road by a burning spice shop.

Lovina caughed on the smoke, looking around bleary at the chaos. Men were fighting, people were screaming, fire crackling as smoke filled the night sky. Somewhere in the distace, the church bell still tolled.

"Remember the way to the church?" asked Lovina suddenly, turning to her sister.

Feliciana wouldn't last ten seconds out here. Lovina, at least, could hold her own long enough to do something. Find Nonno at least...maybe Ludwig too. She might not like him, but he took good care of her sister after all.

Her twin nodded, wide eyed.

"Then go, I'll meet you there," she said, shoving her away and turning back down the street.

"What about you?"

"I'll find Nonno."

"And Ludwig too!"

Lovina ran into the street, hoping Fleiciana would make for the church. As she circled back, she skirted several pairs of raiding pirates, finally reaching the main gate. Trying not to look too hard at the bodies of the dead garuds and pirate alike, she picked her way through the mess. It took a massive amount of will power to stay focused and not loose her stomach.

Focus, idiota, she snapped at herself. Find Nonno and that damn German.

Ludwig was easy to find, a blond haired man at six fee tall. Lovina was impressed with him and his silent-giant grandfather, who were holding their own on the swarming pirates.

"Roma!" she shouted over the noise. "Nonno!"

"Feli, was machst du? Get out of here!"

Even now, Lovina scowled. Ludwig had only gotten them mixed up once, when they'd first met three years ago. He was in the minority.

"I'm-

"Lovina!"

She turned, meaning to sarcastically thank whoever it was, and was startled to see her grandfather yanking his sword from a dead pirate and make his way over to her.

"Get out of here, go to the church," he said, grabbing one of her shoulders. "You have to run. Where's your sister?"

"I sent her ahead. Nonno, what about you?"

"I'll be find, bambina, now go."

"But-

"Go!"

He shoved her twoards the gate. Lovina stumbled, and then ran. The pirates seemed to be returning to their ships with plunder, or converging on the noble house. Once she'd slipped passed the latter, it was a straight shot through panicing streets to the church. Or at least, so she had thought.

In truth, she made it two blocks through the smokey streets. She had just tripped over what she hoped was a sleeping drunk when a hand grabbed her shoulder.

Lovina jumped, tearing away with a shriek. The grip found her again, this time tightening. When she looked up, she met the grinning face of a snagle-toothed pirate.

"Ye be one 'o them pretty ladies from the fancy house?"

"Let go of me you filthy bastardo!" snapped Lovina, lashing out.

The man frowned. "No? Oh well, at least you're pretty."

"What are you doing? Put me down!"

The pirate had dumped her over his shoulder and was now jogging towards the harbor. Lovina kicked, screamed, and wiggled, but nothing had an effect. Deciding she'd best save her energy for later efforts, she resigned herself to wait out the ride. It was easier said than done, though. The man's shoulder dug into her belly, and he carried that special scent that came from going a month or so with no bath.

When he reached a row boat, where several of his freinds had already loaded various sacks of money or other precious items, she waited until he loosened grip to start struggling again.

"Watch it!" he protested as she landed a good cuff on his head.

Lovina, for all her temper, was no match for the beefy armed pirate. She was dumped uncerimoniously into the boat, and then threatened with rather sharp daggers should she decide to try to escape. She found herself unable to do anything but watch, helpless to change her fate, as they rowed out to the main ship.

Others were already returning by the boat load. The two smaller ships had docked, and pirates were streaming back onto them. By the time Lovina was dragged out onto the deck, the ship was turning away. Lovina felt queezy as the men laughed over a sucessful raid, even more so when the other men started asking if they might borrow her. At that point she blocked everything out, so she didn't hear the silence as the last person climbed aboard.

She was still trying to swollow just what had happened in the last half hour as the pirate grabbed her arm again.

"Yes, Grange, all the booty. That includes women too."

"Let go," snapped Lovina, jerking and clawing at the hand as she was thrust foward.

She lifted her head, glowering at the man that stood just apart from the others. The deck was well lit with torches and lanters. The 'booty', or stollen money and treasures, reflected the light, making it seem even brighter. As such, the man was quite well illuminated considering it was the middle of the night.

The captain, as he almost had to be, stood nearly six feet tall in height. He had broad shoulders, standing tall and proud. He wore black boots, brown breeches, a white shirt half open, and a long red coat that opened cape-like around him. Belts and holsters were slung aorund his hips and criss-crossed his torso, holding twin pistols, a rapior, and several dagers. In his hands was a heavy pole, attached to which was a double headed axe. It was easily as long as he was tall, yet he handled it with ease.

He wasn't nearlly as hard to look at as the rest of his crew, though Lovina was loath to admit it. He had golden brown skin and handsome features. His hair was no more than four inches from his skalp, slightly curly and chocolate brown. His emerald eyes glinted strangely in the yellow light.

Those eyes zeroed in on her, regarding her carefully. A smile curved up on his lips.

"It seems you've brought me an unusual prize, Grange." He shifted the axe to his right hand, and stepped foreard to grip her wrist with his left.

"But that only applies to the nobles," protested Grange. "She ain't noble."

"Al contrario," said the captain, smiling. "Allow me to introduce Lady Lovina Vargas. Grandaughter to Lord Roma Vargas."

Lovina stared, and then glared at him. She jerked at the grip, but he held fast.

"She don't talk like a noble," said Grange, still frowning.

"Shut up, bastardo," snapped Lovina, turning her glower on him.

"No, she doesn't," the captain agreed cheerfully. "This way, my lady."

Lovina found herself led along, the crowd of crew members parting for them. They went down a short flight of stairs and through a door, the bar of which the captain settled firmly before releasing her. Lovina stumbled away, and then swung around to glare at him as she took slow steps back.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "How do you know who I am?"

"You told me, señorita," he said, smiling warmly. In any other situation, she might have softened a bit at that.

"I've never met you before in my life, idiota," she snapped.

"I did look a bit different last time," he said, going over to the desk. "I didn't give you my name either. Triste, I don't always remember my manners."

He tossed something to her in a light, underhand throw. She caught it instinctively, and then found she could only stare. It was a ripe, newly picked tomato.

When she looked up again, he set his axe aside and gave her a deep, formal bow. "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, captain of the Delfín Rojo, at your service my lady."


Please Review!