A/N: Hello all! I come bearing a new Fanfiction! XD ... I am really sorry I haven;t been working on the other ones! I will get around to it eventually though!... In the meantime, I was inspired to write this. I've come across a few Pirate!EnglandXCanada Fanfics, and they were enjoyable to read... but I wanted to do something different. I'm a little tired of seeing Canada depicted as a Damsel in Distress, and wanted to write him having a little more fight in him! I'm a sucker for Pirate!England with Canada though, so I came up with this little thing (because the first chapter alone being 8 pages long is really little, right? XD ) ... Anyway, this is very much AU ... and it seems that some USCan has snuck into it ... and now I'm kind of debating on who should have the Happy Ending ... USCan, or UKCan? It's so hard to choose, because I made Alfred pretty sweet in this (maybe too sweet. You guys can be the judge) ... It will definitely have UKCan though (since that's the main pairing for this story, regardless). Anyway, since it's AU, I do not refer to them as Countries, and use only their human names. Even so, I hope you will enjoy this story! I hope to continue writing more soon!

P.S. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any mistakes!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, or any characters associated with it!

Darker Tides

By Raven Dunbar

Drab grey clouds hovered on the horizon of the Atlantic ocean as it's waves crested and broke against the sandy shore. The rainy season had returned to the tropics, as it did every year, making it's acquaintance once more with the coastal ports of the Caribbean. A lone figured moved along the shore, pausing at a rock outcrop to look out beyond the sheltered bay. Looking to the south, just beyond the tide line, a French naval fleet floated silently docked, waiting patiently to be sent out to sea once more. An easterly wind picked up, bringing in a light pray of rain as the figure turned away from the water and headed back inland once again, towards a large manor that stuck out somewhat like a sore thumb against the sheer rocky cliffs of the inlet. Passing a couple of men who were headed down towards the shore with a small rowing boat and some crab traps, the figure hailed them in a friendly manner.

"Good day, Gentlemen! Off to set your crab traps this afternoon?"

"Ahoy, Master Williams. Aye, a storm's a brewing on the horizon. No better time than the present to get these traps out there. Lord knows we wouldn't want to get caught out on the water when it comes to pay a visit."

" Ah, yes. It's probably for the best then. Good luck, and be safe!"

"Thank you kindly, young sir. Enjoy your afternoon!"

Master Matthew Williams was the nephew and only heir to the estate of one Lord Francis Bonnefoy, a French Admiral who governed over the small town situated in the quiet Caribbean inlet. Matthew was born to Francis's elder sister and an English officer who had been serving in the British Army in what was known as Upper Canada. When Matthew was still very small, his Father and Mother were killed in a land dispute, leaving him in the care of his only surviving relative which just so happened to be Lord Bonnefoy. Lord Bonnefoy had no legitimate heir of his own and as such, upon the adoption of his nephew, Matthew became the one who would eventually inherit his estate and the title of Governor. Despite his high status in society, however, Matthew was a kind young man who preferred to think of himself as equal to everyone, despite their class. He was not one to look down upon others. This sometimes bothered Francis, because he believed that acknowledging one's status was important, but as Matthew grew and continued to be the kind person that he was, Francis accepted it, and was even somewhat proud of his young nephew, who was proving to be more noble than any of the nobility Francis had ever known.

As Matthew parted from the two fisherman, he continued towards the manner for a few more yards but came to a stop before he reached the large building. Looking thoughtful for a moment, he shifted his position and instead, turned to his left, following a dirt road that lead away from the manor. His short journey brought him to a large, weather worn wooden workshop. From the roof, two or three chimney stacks protruded, billowing thick puffs of grey-blue smoke. From within the building, the sound of iron crashing against steel echoed through the warm, moist air. Pausing in front of the large, iron hinged doors, a smile grew across the young man's features. Leaning forward, he carefully open the door on the left, and peered inside the shop. Calling out over the sounds of the tools and the steaming, broiling furnaces, he cast a searching glance around the Blacksmith's workshop.

"Hello? Alfred? Are you in here?"

For a moment there was no response, so Matthew called out over the din again, this time a little louder, and received a reply.

"Hey, Mattie! Yeah, I'm right over here."

A second later, and young man, around the same age as Matthew, stepped out from behind a large central support beam. He was wearing a pair of simple bronze goggles that he pushed up on his forehead, causing his golden blonde hair to stick up at random angles. Laughing, Matthew stepped inside the workshop and made his way over to where the other young man, Alfred, stood.

"Ah, hard at work again, as usual, I see … what are you working on today?"

As Matthew tried to get a look at Alfred's current project, the young blacksmith set his hammer down on the anvil next to the piece of steel that he'd been working on.

"Nothing too exciting today. Just repairing some musket barrels for some of the soldiers that are passing through. I was kind of hoping to get some target practice in today … but you know how it goes. I'm not going to make any money shooting targets, hahaha."

Matthew nodded knowingly and smiled at the cheerful young blacksmith.

"Ah, yes … I was hoping to get some fencing practice in today myself, but Francis is entertaining some of the Captains from the Naval fleet docked in the bay. They're here on important business apparently."

Alfred cocked his head slightly and then glanced towards the door.

"I noticed that some of those ships are flying British flags … I was wondering what they were doing here. I mean, your Uncle doesn't really take too kindly to the British … so what's the deal? Do you know anything?"

Matthew had changed his position and was turning over some of Alfred's tools as if examining them. He looked up from what he was doing with an expression of mild concern as Alfred looked at him expectantly.

"I'm afraid I don't know too much… but from what I've gathered, there is a notorious Pirate crew that has been spotted sailing the waters not too far from here. Apparently the British Navy is after them and they've come to seek aid from Francis. I'm not entirely sure why they would do that. It doesn't make much sense to me at all."

Alfred looked both puzzled and concerned as Matthew shared his very minimal knowledge on the subject.

"That would explain why I have so many muskets, blades and bayonets to repair then… but it kind of makes you wonder. Do the Brits think that this crew is going to come here or something? I can't really see what they'd want from a tiny little town like this one. I mean, you and your uncle are the only ones who any real wealth here. Everyone else here are just workers and fisherman, and a few French soldiers… You'll be meeting with them as well, won't you?"

Matthew simply nodded his head.

" Well then, you'll have to tell me what you find out! You know I love a little bit of juicy gossip now and again, hahaha. But for now, I better get back to work! Thanks for stopping by!"

Pulling his goggles back down over his eyes, Alfred grinned at Matthew and turned back to his work.

"Yes, of course … as long as you can keep that big mouth of yours shut. I'll see you later, Alfred!"

Matthew grinned at his friend as he took his leave. Alfred returned the look with an expression of indignation.

"Hey! I may have a big mouth, but at least I'm not a pansy little rich boy like you!"

Matthew just laughed and waved as he exited the Workshop and made his way back to his Uncle's manor to sit in on the meeting with the British Navy Captains. The afternoon wore on as Lord Bonnefoy and Matthew, as well as some of Francis's own soldiers met with the Captains of the British Naval Fleet that was currently docked out in the small bay. The clouds had taken on a darker shade of grey and the winds were picking up, blowing much more fiercely. Matthew found himself growing bored as the older men conversed and shared in some afternoon tea. Francis decided to partake in the British tradition if only to make his guests feel more at home despite the uneasiness that could be felt between the two groups. The young blonde was staring out a window with a blank expression. That is until the men finally started to discuss the reason that they were actually there. Perking up a little, Matthew turned his attention to the group, listening intently.

"It has come to our attention that the vessel known as the Queen's Blight has been spotted offshore in a town not too far from this very inlet," started an elderly looking man, who was the commander of the fleet. "We have been trying to track down this vessel for sometime now, after a brutal attack by her crew occurred in Port Royal. This particular crew has been quite a nuisance, and the King has asked us to bring justice to these waters. Not only are these Pirate's causing a great deal of trouble, their Captain is a wanted criminal and must be captured at all costs, to be punished for his crimes against his king and Country. We're aware of the fact that your Lordship has been well acquainted with this particular pirate."

The Commander was watching Francis carefully as the Frenchman idly stirred the contents of his tea cup with a delicate silver spoon. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then gave the commander a knowing smile.

"Ah yes, Of Course. You are speaking of Monsieur Kirkland I assume? 'E is not much of a Pirate from my recollection. Had 'e been, I would not 'ave defeated and captured 'im so easily. Ah, but that was many years ago. I 'ad know idea that 'e 'ad returned to the seas. Even so, what does any of this 'ave to do with me? I do not see why I should 'elp you to recapture 'im." Francis eyed the Commander in a bored fashion, his French accent dripping with condescension. The Commander returned the look with an expression of annoyance.

"Perhaps he didn't seem like much of a problem back then, but as you have said, that was a long time ago. He has become quite skilled since those times, and have you ever considered that perhaps it was merely a stroke of luck that you were able to defeat him that time? Forgive me, Lord Bonnefoy, but you do not know what he is truly capable of. He has committed many unforgivable crimes, and he must be brought to justice!" The Commander paused for a moment. Matthew was watching him carefully, finding himself growing far more curious about this pirate that his uncle had encountered, this Captain Kirkland. The Commander's eyes narrowed as Francis continued to look bored.

"Not only that, good sir, but we have also received news that the reason that Kirkland and his crew of brigands are in this area is because he has caught word that you are now residing here, and he is looking to revenge himself upon you. I have no idea what went on between the two of you when you defeated him, but he seems to have a vendetta against you. Now, normally, we would not care that his is after you. It's up to your own country and government to take care of that. However, since we too are after him, we saw this as an opportunity to finally capture him, and his crew, and see that they are, every last one of them, hanged."

Francis was quiet for a moment. Matthew looked at him expectantly, as did the British Commander. Both were hoping to hear what they wanted to hear. Matthew had been aching for a little bit of action after all. He'd gone through military training under his uncle, and was wanting to put his skills to the test. He was sure that Alfred would want in on the action as well. Alfred was a born fighter after all. Matthew on the other hand, wanted to put his tactical skills to use. Finally Francis spoke, and he was laughing in a somewhat pompous manner as he did so

"Hohoho, that is ridiculous. Even if 'e really did want to avenge 'imself, there is no way 'e would ever succeed. 'Owever, since you 'ave come 'ere in 'opes of capturing 'im, I will allow your men to stay in the town, and I will lend you a few of my men, but that is all that I will do for you, and as soon as you 'ave captured Monsieur Kirkland and 'is crew, you will leave immediately!"

The Commander did not seem pleased with this response, but he would not argue any further. It was quite obvious to him that Francis was not taking it very seriously and did not seem like he was ever going to. As such, he accepted Lord Bonnefoy's terms, and then discussion began about the amount of men that Francis would lend them. It was a small number, only a dozen. And neither Matthew or Alfred made the list. Having lost faith in the meeting, Matthew excused himself and made his way back to Alfred's workshop to tell him the news.

"Seriously? He's only lending them 12 men? Not to offend, but your Uncle should really rethink this! I've heard stories about The Queen's Blight and her crew. When I was delivering that Iron Gate to the Church, two cities north, one of the smith's there was telling me that he heard that the next town over was ransacked by the crew on that vessel, and that the Captain killed the Governor's wife and son right in front of him. He apparently gutted them like pigs… and that's just one of the stories I've heard in my travels." Alfred looked very serious as he related his tales to Matthew. The young noble shook his head, bewildered.

"And to think, my Uncle had captured him once … and the Commander of the British Fleet said that he'd heard that This Dread Pirate Kirkland was out for revenge on my uncle now. I wish he would take the Commander's warning more seriously." The two young men then spent the rest of the early evening chatting and sharing in a drink of Ale that Alfred had on tap at the back of his shop. As the dark clouds outside turned the sky to black, and the night crept in under a curtain of rain, Matthew decided it was time to return to the Manor. As he walked towards the door still chatting with Alfred, the Blacksmith paused suddenly, and his bright blue eyes went wide for a moment.

"Wait! Just one second… I almost forgot again!" He quickly turned away from Matthew and head further back into his shop. Dipping out of sight for a moment, Matthew could hear him rummaging around. When Alfred came into sight again, he was holding something in his hand. As he approached the young noble, he held the object out. It was a dagger. The folded steel blade was about ten inches long, and the handle was almost the same length, and wrapped in leather. It was a rather plain looking weapon except that upon the blade, something was carved in cuneiform. For all his education, Matthew had no clue how to read cuneiform and as such could not make out what it said. He looked at the weapon and then up at Alfred, confusion showing on his face. The blacksmith on the other hand was grinning from ear to ear.

"W-what is it?" Matthew asked as he looked back at the blade once more.

"It's a dagger, you idiot! What else does it look like?" replied Alfred in a sarcastic, joking manner.

"Well, I know it's a dagger! … But what is it for? And what does it say?"

Alfred had to refrain from making another sarcastic comment. Grabbing Matthew's hands with one of his own, he placed the dagger across the young noble's palms.

"It's for you … I've been working on this for a while. That's cuneiform… but I can't tell you what it says … not yet anyway! Hahaha!" Matthew couldn't help but notice that his boisterous friend seemed to be a little pink in the cheeks suddenly. At least from what he could see of his face, which was mostly covered in soot.

"But … why did you make it for me?"

"Well… you know … you're my best friend … and I know you like daggers. Just thought you needed something new for your collection. I wasn't going to say anything, but I'm working on a matching sabre to go with it. I was going to give them to you at the same time, but considering that, you know, you might get attacked by pirates in the middle of the night now because your Uncle is an idiot… er… no offence … I thought a little extra protection would be useful, hahaha!"

Turning the dagger over in his hand, Matthew inspected the masterfully crafted weapon. He smiled brightly and looked back up at his friend who was laughing like an idiot to cover up any sort of awkward feelings he might have been feeling.

"Thank you, Alfred! It's beautiful … but I don't think we will get attacked by any pirates in the night. I'm sure the navy will bring them to a halt."

Leaning forward, Matthew pulled his friend into a warm hug.

"You're a dear friend indeed, Alfred. You should be commended for that alone. I could not ask for a better friend!"

Trying to cover up his bashfulness, Alfred just continued to laugh. "And you're just a giant sap. Don't get all mushy on me now."

Both young men looked at each other quietly in a moment of unspoken communication and then burst out laughing. Finally, Matthew excused himself as he bade Alfred a good night and headed back to the manor.

Once in his room, Matthew, now dressed in his night clothes, stared out his bedroom window. The winds had come and gone, but the rain was still pouring from the sky, pelting the earth like tiny bullets. Along the shore, Matthew could see fires burning as the British soldiers set up their makeshift camps just above the high tide line. The sky was so thick with clouds and sleeting rain that one could not make out the horizon as the darkness seemed to meld together. As the young noble crawled into his bed, he was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding. Taking the dagger that Alfred had gifted him with, he tucked it away under his night clothes with a strap that he wore on his leg. He had learned long ago that it was always important to carry some means of defence on his person, and daggers were relatively easy to hide.

A long the horizon a silhouette began to emerge from the darkness, moving like a shadow creature across the water. The rain continued to beat down from the sky.

to be continued ...

A/N: So what do you guys think? Should I keep going? Let me know! ^_^