Katie/Marcus Pirate!AU for Carmen :D
It was Katie's job to bring food to the prisoners. It was her job to do everything her master told her, and feeding the prisoners in his cellar just factored into it. Her job, in actuality, was that of a chambermaid, but the governor was far too miserly to hire other servants, so she was the maid, the cook, the guard, the horseman, and the occasional secretary.
That was what indentured servitude had brought her down to, Katie noted bitterly.
Katie put the tray of food on the ground to allow herself to open the door. It was thick and heavy, but she was used to opening it, even if it took her about five minutes to manage to turn the key in the lock, which was rusty and often got stuck. When she opened the door, she braced it open with her foot and got the tray from the ground.
It was another flight of stairs before she reached the cellar. It was pitch-black and smelled musky. She lit the candle she'd brought down with her and proceeded to the cells on the other end of the floor.
There was only one person there, captured the day before, and Katie hadn't seen him before.
A deep voice, rough from disuse and lack of water, broke the silence as she approached. "Who's there?"
Had she not known of the prisoner, Katie would have screamed. As it was, the voice already sent a shiver down her spine, so she braced herself before responding. "Food. I'm bringing food for the prisoner."
A rattle of chains. The clank of metal against metal. Heavy breathing. "Bring it here."
Katie did. She was used to prisoners' voices, knowing that they ate only once a day. "I'm supposed to stay here," she explained, sitting down on the floor outside the cell. She passed the tray inside. "Here. I'll put the candle here so you can see yourself eat."
She balanced the candle on the ground in between them as the prisoner moved closer. It illuminated half of his face and half of hers. Without making it seem like she was looking, Katie noticed the bags under his eyes, the half-beard that seemed to have developed overnight, and the dirt on his face.
He ate with his hands, dirty just like his face, because he wasn't allowed utensils for fear of attack and escape. Katie noted that he ate like a starved man, and for all she knew, he was. Watching him eat reminded her of the emptiness of her own stomach, and she felt it growl.
The man stopped eating. He lifted his head. "Hungry?"
"Less than you are," Katie replied.
"I'm a seaman." He shrugged. "I've spent days not eating, and I'm still here. Now, I'm a pirate, not a barbarian, so come here."
Katie shook her head. "No, thank you."
"Come here, I won't hurt you." Keeping his hands in sight, he gestured to a place closer to the food. "Come here."
"I…" Katie's stomach rumbled again; she ate only as often as the prisoners did. "Thank you."
She ate quietly, just as he did. They made short work of the meal, each eating half of it, and soon the tray was empty and back in Katie's hands. She made to stand up, but the prisoner reached through the bars and put his hand on her arm.
She tensed up. "You do anything and I scream."
"They won't hear you," he dismissed. "Besides, I'm not doing anything. What's your name?"
"You grabbed me to ask my name?" She knew the surprise was evident in her voice, but she couldn't help it; all too often had the prisoners grabbed her arms with less pure intentions in mind.
"Yes. I'll go first: my name is Marcus Flint, and I'm—"
"The scourge of the seven seas," she finished. "You're infamous. I knew there was a pirate here—it's rare when it's not a pirate here—but I didn't think… how did you get captured?"
"Accident." He waved his hand. "That's not important. Now, I told you. It's your turn."
"Katie."
"Just Katie?"
"Bell." She laughed. "It's not often someone wants a name, much less a full name. I'm the governor's maid."
"It's my pleasure, Katie Bell." A seducer's smile passed over his face. "Katie Bell, what do you think about helping me escape?"
.oOo.
It was insane, Katie decided as she locked the cellar door. Absolutely mad! But Marcus Flint's plan was in her head, had been explained with the utmost detail, and he'd let her leave with a simple "Do with it as you will."
It was a trust that had rarely been given her—notwithstanding the governor letting her run the household, because he was an old, miserly, lonely bastard—and she found herself flattered.
And scared.
Yes, she was definitely scared.
You can take his key while he's asleep. You said there're no guards, and that he has you guard his door. You said that he's a light sleeper, but that's alright—Katie, don't worry—you're a light walker. Take his key, you know where it is, I don't, and bring it down here. You can unlock me, you can take me away.
My ship's just outside the harbor, I just need a small boat. Can you get one? Katie, can you get one without arousing suspicion. I can take myself out, you won't be in any danger.
I swear that. I do. I'm not a bad person.
You said you know of me, you know what they say.
"He's like Robin Hood," she'd cited. "A hero. He doesn't kill, he steals from the rich… yes, I know what they say. But you're a pirate. How do I know they're telling the truth?"
"Valid point," he'd agreed. "Katie, I trust you."
The governor always went to bed early. He'd call her into the room when he was already in his nightclothes to tell her to stand outside. She'd do as told, and stand watch in the darkening hallway.
Just as she'd thought that, the governor rang for her, letting her stand outside his door until he was dressed. He called her in, told her to stand outside, and went to bed as she settled in the hall.
The clock in the downstairs sitting room chimed midnight. Against her will, Katie shivered.
.oOo.
For the second time that day, Katie walked down the steps to the cellar. Now, though, the shadows on the walls were numerous and ominous, closing in around her. She clutched the key tighter; her palm was clammy.
She reached the cellar door and looked back. The stairs she'd just walked down beckoned her to come back, and the lights coming from the small windows were no longer foreboding but welcoming.
It would be so easy to turn back.
Katie unlocked the cellar door, slowly walking into the darkness. She hadn't had the courage to light the candle before, but she did so now. The light was as faint as usual, but she could see the stairs and that was all she needed.
She entered the cellar. The light illuminated the floor, covered in sand, dirt, and fibers. She made sure to walk quietly, even if there was no one who would catch her. As she got closer to the other side of the room, the light revealed the outline of a cell. Even closer, and she could see the outline of a man.
"You came."
He hadn't slept. His eyes were bloodshot and his face still dirty, and yet Katie felt him to be more alive than he'd been before, could see a spark of life in his eyes that hadn't been there before.
She nodded.
"Thank you."
She nodded once more.
Her palm was sweaty where she'd held the key and it had imprinted into her skin. Fumbling, she fit it into the lock on the cell door. It was easy to twist, being free of rust, and the door swung open quietly.
.oOo.
"The boat's over there," Katie whispered, hoping that Marcus would hear her even with their considerable height difference. "No one uses it, I doubt people even know it's there. It'll be easy for you to row out to your ship… but…"
"'But'?"
"Nothing."
Marcus led the way to the boat. He walked with a stealth common to thieves and pirates, while Katie followed at a more civil pace. One of his arms was in front of her in a protective gesture, because one never knew if they were being followed. But they were alone.
"Help me get it onto the water?" Marcus looked at the several meters separating the boat from the ocean. He knew he could have done it himself, but, "It would be faster with two."
Katie smiled in affirmation.
Side by side, they pushed the boat. The ground gave way from dirt to sand, and then the boat bobbed on the water. Marcus jumped in. Holding the oars, he smiled up at the still-standing Katie.
"Thank you."
On the other side of the harbor, a window filled with light.
.oOo.
Katie wrapped her arms around herself as she watched Marcus row away.
The water was still under the dark sky, the silence of the night only broken by the faint splashing of Marcus's rowing. It was warm, as the island usually was, but the pervading chill brought with it a sense of foreboding. Katie dug her heels into the sand and watched the pirate's small boat get smaller and smaller.
She turned around when the boat was eight meters away, prepared to head back to the governor's mansion and play dumb when he discovered his missing prisoner. A shout from the direction she'd started walking in stopped her in her tracks. She watched as windows illuminated in the governor's mansion and the sounds of people running filled her ears.
Behind her, on the water, Marcus had come to the same realization she had.
Marcus Flint was no longer prisoner. And he'd had help.
Katie looked around and realized that she had nowhere to go, as the search party could cover the island in minutes. Desperately, she stared at the underbrush next to the beach, knowing that it was no reasonable way out but that it was her only way out. She looked at Marcus, hoping that he hadn't stopped rowing—and he hadn't.
The boat was coming closer and closer.
Obviously to her, Marcus quietly yelled, "Get in!"
.oOo.
The bottom of her dress was waterlogged, as were her shoes and stockings.
From the safety of the boat—which had, with their joint efforts, drifted a hundred meters from the shore and was steadily moving farther and farther away—Katie saw men storm the beach, their torches signifying their movements and their search of the underbrush she had wanted to hide in.
"You'll have to stay," Marcus whispered, seeing where she was looking. "You can't go back there, and I doubt you can return to the colonies now without consequence."
Katie nodded. "That's not as adverse a situation as you make it out to be."
"It isn't?"
"No." She smiled. "It was far from my dream job, Captain."
"'Captain'?"
"As I assume—correct me if I'm mistaken—I am welcome aboard your ship?"
"Why… yes."
"And am I welcome into your crew?"
Marcus stared. He looked at her for a good few minutes, taking in her eager, teasing smile and twinkling eyes. Her hair had been disheveled by the wind and excitement of their adventure and her dress was visibly wet. She rowed with the same intensity he did, and did so with an obvious experience.
This girl—daring, courageous, beautiful—wanted to be a part of his crew.
And Marcus never denied a lady.
.oOo.
His second officer at his shoulder, Marcus Flint looked through his spyglass at the open sea in front of them.
"Merchant ship!" he announced to the crew. Turning to the woman next to him, he smiled invitingly and executed a short bow. "Riches await us, milady."
She led the way to the helm as he shouted orders for boarding the approaching ship.