Hello hello! This is my first Hetalia fanfic so it will probably suck Alfred's jingle bells, but I still felt the need to write it and upload it onto fanfiction! So, here it is.
Some things might not be history accurate. Sometimes references will seem unclear, don't hesitate to ask about it and I will make it clear, cause I forget that a lot (derp).
The story will be set in the year 1711 (I think lol), in the midst of the Golden Age of Piracy (which it wasn't called in that time, though)
I'm not too sure about the rating yet, either. I want to make it a M-rated story, but first I have to see if I will be capable of doing so xD
Chapter 1
Every man once has to make a very important decision in his life. Decisions connected with marriage, work, money.
These were exactly the decisions Alfred was avoiding. After his family had successfully managed to work themselves into a large debt by taking loan upon loan, they had decided to try and marry their children into wealthy families.
His siblings might not have cared so much as he did; but Alfred enjoyed being a free man. As the oldest of three, he would have to take over his father's business as well, after he got married. He had to pay off their loans and only had to hope he would be able too.
His younger brother, Matthew, earlier told their father he would be more than happy to fulfill this task. But, his father wouldn't have it. Alfred really didn't understand why, because Matthew, though incredibly shy, was more responsible than he was.
Which brings us to his biggest decision yet. In favor of marrying and ending up with debts, Alfred faked his own death. It wasn't too hard really, he had used the blood of the chickens in the kitchen who had yet to be prepared. He soaked pieces of his nightgown with this blood and led a trail to the window, staging it to be a kidnap as well. His house was fairly close to the docks, so it would be possible his murderer dumped his body in the seas.
It was the perfect lie, Alfred was assured of it. He looked at the docks of his small town as he wandered around quietly. He had to leave soon though, as soon as breakfast would be served his family would notice his disappearance. Even though his death would be believable, they would search for him just in hope.
He felt sad thinking about how heartbroken his family must be, but he couldn't risk going back now. He wandered around the docks and paid no mind to the sailors carrying boxes to their boats and back, probably supplies.
His initial idea was to travel with a boat to either another country or place, he didn't really care. Once there, he wanted to make arrangements to perhaps move to New England. He had heard great stories about Virginia Colony and Connecticut Colony.
Most of the ships at the docks were supply ships, but he couldn't just board any ship. He looked at their sailors carefully before sighing and kicking a pebble on the road. It was slowly getting too late and he hadn't found anything yet.
His eyes travelled back and forth, and after politely helping some ungrateful bastards with an exceptionally heavy crate, his eyes fell on a ship with dark wood, elegant red paintings on the sides and beautifully carved rails. According to the flag, it was a supply ship. He stalked closer and couldn't believe his luck as the guard was just released by another.
They spoke English. That meant they must go to a colony, or to some other part of England. This was his best chance!
The following steps of his plan went rather smoothly. As he had expected (and seen many times), it got really busy around half past six, as everyone got ready to depart. It wasn't hard to sneak on the ship by pretending to help with some crates, holding them up high enough to hide his face from other sailors.
He easily found a weapon supply room and eased behind some crates. This was too easy. Something almost felt wrong, but he shrugged and leaned back. The heavens had always been fortunate with him so why shouldn't they now? Even if he was caught, the ship was a simple supply ship, there should be nothing wrong with being caught. He would just explain and pay them money, he had some with him, and he could work. Surely the captain of the ship would sympathize, and just drop his sorry behind on the next dock available. Just like he wanted.
Alfred closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, grinning stupidly. This was going perfect! He felt a pang of guilt by making his family worry, but he had no other choice. His family would have never listened to him. He had met the girl he was supposed to marry and she was a darling, really, but she wasn't in love with him.
He couldn't do that to her. He knew social etiquette and that most people didn't love each other as they married, but he liked to think of himself different. Or at least he liked to think he had done the girl a good deed. She would have a chance of finding a loveable young man, now that he wasn't there.
And Mattie too. He would now be able to take over his father's company, like he had wanted since he was young. He knew he wouldn't have to worry about Albert, the youngest of three. He had all the freedom in the world and people adored him, for personality wise he was a lot like Alfred.
He hoped both of them would stick around long enough to soothe the broken heart of his poor mother, though. His mother loved her sons more than anything, but for her sake he didn't say goodbye. She would've tortured herself with thoughts; Why didn't I notice? She would have known that Alfred knew something, if he had made a grand show of the night before he left. Now it seemed like a coincidental murder.
He frowned and pressed his lips together a little harder. Perhaps, in a few years, he could come back and see how things are going. Once he was settled and had a life of his own, then he would able to come by and surprise his family.
The first thing Alfred noticed when he was awoke, was that he awoke on a different place than expected. This wasn't his bed.
He realized soon after about his adventure the day before, and noticed he was still on a different place than to be expected. First, he was lying, and in the space behind the crates he only had enough room to sit.
Second, the smell of gunpowder was replaced by the smell of salt and dirt. He squinted his eyes. It was also a lot brighter.
After his eyes focused he realized he was in the open air. The blue sky seemed too clear for a typical English day and he groaned, sitting up. He had a terrible headaches, and when he rubbed his head he felt a bump. Did he fight? He couldn't remember.
"Well, if it ain't the stowaway wakin' up from his beauty sleep." Someone sneered and Alfred looked up, his eyes protesting from the bright light the blue sky provided him with. He blinked at the man above him, feeling a rather weird air coming from this situation. But, no matter, it was only a supply ship.
He cleared his throat and thought a proper introduction was needed. "I-"
"Oh shut yer trap. You, marooner!" He turned around to some poor sailor walking by. "Go call the cap'n. The souvenir woke up."
Souvenir? That's hardly a way to call someone. Alfred frowned and sat up a little straighter, not risking to stand. He didn't have the best sea legs, and it would be embarrassing if he fell straight on his face.
"Ye're in some big trouble, landlubber." The man said. Alfred looked at him again and noticed that underneath his dirty brown rag, he had dark brown hair, matching his dark brown eyes. He spoke in an accent too, but he didn't pay it any mind.
He noticed other sailors looking at him with smug grins and smirks, and he was about to comment on it, when the whispering and name-calling stopped abruptly by the sound of some boots. Alfred turned his head to the direction of the sound, and made a surprised sound at the man's attire.
A little… flamboyant, if he thought so himself. The man wore a red coat, golden like lines adorning it, underneath it a shirt with ruches. Perched on his wild blonde hair was a hat with feathers sticking out of it elegantly, few of them knotted together with gems. His bright green eyes contrasted against his coat and held a burning fire. His unnatural big eyebrows killed the picture though, and Alfred bit his lip to not grin at them.
He smiled at the captain, but dropped it when the captain raised his eyebrow. Something… was very wrong here, after all. The man's attire, the behavior of the sailors… He peeked a look at the flag. A pirate flag.
"Damn it." He whispered underneath his breath. The ship had seemed too fancy, too daring for a supply ship too, now he thought about it.
"What was that?" The captain required, and Alfred shut his mouth. He didn't need to know what the consequences of insulting pirates would be. The captain smirked, and Alfred looked at him again. Those eyebrows really were huge!
The captain loomed over him threateningly. "Who are you?"
"Alfred Jones, sir." Alfred replied as politely as he could. In the eyes of these pirates, the captain was their deity, so…
"Tell me, Jones, what are you doing here?" For a pirate, he spoke English surprisingly well. Alfred cleared his throat again, feeling his dry throat terribly.
"Eh… I wanted to travel with you to the next dock." He weakly replied and some pirates burst out in laughter. The captain held a smirk.
"In the knowledge of who we are?"
"No." Alfred honestly replied. "There was a flag of England's Supply Ships. I've been… fooled."
"Hmm, that is a shame." The captain said slowly. "Well, see him to Davy Jones. Oh. What a coincidence." He snickered to himself.
Whoa, what? Davy Jones? Didn't that mean to kill him? His suspicions were confirmed when two men hurled him up and started to drag him to the side of the ship. Blasted, the only thing he saw here was sea. He would die from exhaustion if they didn't shoot him before that!
"Wait!" Alfred cried out, trying to remember what Mattie and him always said when one of them caught each other in their silly play of piracy. Par… Pearl? Oh! "Parley! I ask for Parley!"
He heard an irritated snarl and the two men released him, and he fell down on the deck with a heavy thud. The captain stomped back to him, muttering something about French frogs. He kneeled down and glared at him, trying to intimidate him.
"Parley is a meeting held between two superiors." He said lowly, threateningly. Alfred raised his eyebrows, it originated from that, yes, but nowadays any captain had to respond to it.
"That was a long time ago." He responded cleverly, but not mockingly. He saw the captain furrow his enormous brows and press his lips together, clearly debating whether to accept or to just ignore it and throw him in the seas. But wasn't it part of some code, pirate or sailor?
Finally he stood up. "See him to my quarters." With that, the captain walked off. Two men hurled him up again and followed their captain down a small stairs, and walked him into an already opened room. He was dropped unceremoniously again and this time he regained his footing, wobbling around.
"Leave." The two men were gone in an instant and the captain took place, swinging his legs on the desk. His boots pushed him off the table slightly so he was leaning backwards on his chair, and he held a small dagger to him. Alfred frowned.
"Hey, that's mine!"
"So it seems." The captain replied, dwindling it between his fingers. The only blue gem on it shone brightly in the sunlight streaming in from the one window. "Sit."
Alfred did as he was told and stiffly sat down, happy for the small distraction. So he asked for parley, but he had no idea what to do now. What was there to talk about? He bit the inside of his cheek. He could handle this politely or rudely; either way he was probably going to be ditched.
"Who are you?" He asked boldly, deciding on a mix of the two. The captain gave him an unreadable expression.
"You can call me Captain or sir. But, if it matters much… my name is Arthur Kirkland. You are aboard on the Emerald Dragon."
"Wow." Alfred managed to say. The Emerald Dragon was a fairly famous ship, known for its dangerous quarrels with other pirates and the Navy. Arthur smirked, and Alfred quickly recovered.
A silence followed, before Arthur irritably sighed. "Boy, you asked for parley. You will start talking now or I will throw you to the locker."
"Right." Alfred only said, before averting his eyes. Perhaps telling him why he came on the ship would be a good start. He was known for talking a lot, so if he started, perhaps he'd say something sensible. "I boarded your ship to escape my family. They have great debts and want me to marry someone I don't love. If I did I would inherit my father's business and debts."
"So you ran from your problems."
Alfred wisely chose to ignore that and continued. "With my disappearance, my younger brother will take over the business. He had always wanted too and will do a better job, so I saw no reason to not leave."
Arthur seemed unimpressed. "Do they think you are dead, lad?"
"I… think they do. I faked it."
"How?"
"I took chicken's blood and spread it over my bed, and made a trail to my window." It sounded more amateurish now than it did when he thought about it first. The captain smirked nonetheless.
"Amusing. What did you do with the chickens?"
"Fed it do the dogs."
Arthur chuckled lowly, placing the dagger back on the desk. "If you want to know, Alfred, the only possession we took is your dagger. Your papers and money are still in your pocket." Alfred remained still, not checking it, hoping he could believe the captain.
"The sole reason I got onto this ship was to travel to another dock. I have no money to hire a boat or to travel across land. If you'd be kind enough to let me live, I'll work for my stay." He promised, and Arthur cocked his head to one side before his legs snapped onto the ground, and he leant his chin on his hands, elbows on the table.
"Alfred, Alfred… they seem to think you are dead." Nod. "If I would simply let you go, I'd break an old saying. Dead men tell no tales, right?"
"…Indeed." Alfred said uneasily.
"But if you think you can work on my ship, I will gladly take you. You seem a good, strong lad. You left your family for ridiculous reasons. A man of freedom, are you not? Where did you plan on going in the end?"
"Ah… New England, I suppose."
"A wonderful choice. But sadly, not where we are heading yet." He flipped the dagger to the other side of the desk, within Alfred's reach. He carefully took it and held it loosely in his hand. "You can stay here or drown in the seas, Alfred. Your choice."
"What do you mean with staying here?"
"I don't like stowaways. It feels like someone takes advantage of me and my crew. You can become part of my crew and hope I will settle down in New England for a while, or you can try and swim back to England. We have been sailing for a day now, too."
A day? He'd been out that long? Perhaps they knocked him out. That would explain the bump. If he might have gotten close to waking up, they could've hit him to keep him unconscious.
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Alfred asked bitterly. His good mood from the day earlier was completely crushed, but he held onto one hope. If he indeed stayed, and if they indeed went to New England, he could try to escape. "I'll stay."
"Good lad." Arthur said approvingly. "You know, we pirates use quite some seas. It would be hard to escape." As if he had read his mind. Alfred stared at the captain, before bursting out into laughter. It started bitter, soft, before it went more cheerful. He had best make this situation prettier than it was, now.
Arthur stared at him with confusion. "I am glad to see you think this is so funny. But I would be more happy to see you get to work." He said, while he stood up and walked back towards the deck. Alfred followed him, still chuckling.
"William. Show him around would you?" Arthur asked a slightly dark-skinned guy. The guy, William, looked at him before back at his captain, shrugging. The captain nodded, pleased, and dismissed Alfred when he tried to get his attention again. Alfred frowned and watched Arthur disappearing to the steer wheel, before looking back at the William.
William noticed Alfred's slightly panicked look, and smirked, nodding at some buckets. "Get to scrubbing, landlubber."
-Yes, I know Davy Jones wasn't mentioned in books until 1726… yeah, exactly, not in BOOKS. Why the hell wouldn't pirates be able to refer to him earlier? Not like anyone cared about pirates enough to write down what they used as slangs.
- Parley was invented in the High Middle Ages. The root of the word is Parler which is French for speaking, hence the frog comment.
- Virginia was an English colony from 1607-1776, and Connecticut was an English colony from 1636-1776
R&R! :D