Disclaimer: I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.
I just saw this cute picture on tumblr and I loved it, so naturally, it has inspired a descriptive fic. This fic is not from any Hetalia character's point of view. Its sole purpose is to give the story a way to be told. This is also the prequel to Never Say Die.
Summary: Captain Arthur Kirkland is the most feared pirate of the seven seas and his undying love for his son proves that he would do anything for him, even slay the world.
Fidgeting
My knees collided with the wooden floor, causing me to wince. A fist gripped a clump of my hair and yanked it back. My eyesight shot forward from the floor into a pair of cold, emerald eyes. Though I have heard that his eyes strike fear into a full grown man's heart, they only seemed to glow with boredom. The man who sat lax in his throne leaned on his left elbow and his thick eyebrows knitted together with a hint of annoyance. Above his frown was a shadow that curled around his right cheek, causing his right eye to be even more luminous as a shine trickled about on his right earring. It appeared as though the only symmetry the man could be bothered with was his basic body structure and elegant throne. His hat that was adorned with two strings of pearls and a crimson rose tipped to the left side of his head with the help of the weight of feathers that poured out of its top. My eyes traveled up the short waterfall of feathers, past the dark, pirate hat, and traced the strings of gold that streaked across the man's forehead, partially covering his brow. I looked lower to see his blood red coat wrinkled at his joints and accented with yellow.
Truly, this pirate captain was the most feared throughout the seven seas and yet he still seemed only half interested in what his crew member behind me was saying. This man that had seen true terror and gore – even caused it and probably smirked at it – sat boredly in his throne. He seemed detached but was most assuredly thinking about how to gut me.
A small whine finally made its way to my ears. I had been so caught up in the intimidation of the pirate captain that I had not yet noticed what was in his lap. I stared at the bundle of white, deciphering what it could possibly be. At first I thought it was merely a sack of jewels or currency, but my mind raced to think of what it was when it squirmed and flinched. It was then that the thing turned from facing the pirate captain to its left, revealing that it was, in fact, a human child. Delicate strokes of honey that had been tossed about by pervious winds lied lazily on the child's scalp and passed over his small button of a nose. A bit of honey defied its brothers by standing proud and true at the part of the child's hair and bangs. Two, soft curves of yellow hair above his eyes expressed wonder and curiosity. It would be an insult to say that the child's eyes were merely eyes. They were far more than orbs of blue; they were the personification of innocence and they were the true portal to the freedom that is the ocean and sky. A rosy hue seemed to have been gingerly painted on the child's milky cheeks by a master artisan and two, lips that strongly resembled rose petals gaped open, chattering away about a shiny object at the opposite end of the room. The babe moved to jump down from his father's lap, but a strong, boot dressed leg wrapped around the small body, locking the child in place. He reached out a needy arm, his miniscule hand gripping at the shiny object. His mouth babbled on and on about what the child could use the object for and what he could create with it. Ideas both farfetched and creative poured from the delicate mouth until I could hardly stand it.
I looked up at the pirate captain, my face begged him to silence his son, but my whimpering expression halted when I saw his frown gone. The man's lips were curled up into a smirk and his forest green eyes seemed to laugh at my torment. I widened my gaze to take in the entire display and came to a realization. I now knew why men begged for death at his mercy and I now knew why no one alive or dead could ever make this man bend to their will.
This man, Captain Arthur Kirkland, could never be controlled for he had tamed land and sea to do his bidding. But that child he trapped in place, that personification of all things good and just in the world, was his and his alone to adore and love unconditionally. And since his love for that blessed babe was so strong, he was prepared to slay the world so the babe would have whatever he pleased at his angelic, bare feet.
As my realization of Captain Arthur Kirkland's only weakness finished, my eyes closed. My fate was sealed and my life ended.