A/N: Hello all! I don't have much to say, as this is an older ongoing fic of mine, so I'll just put up the details and be done with it.
Summary: It started with a stowaway - a blood Nightray that accused Cardinal Jack Vessalius of all people of treachery! Next thing Oz knows, he's abducted from his father's ship by the Baskerville pirates, and brought aboard the Black Chain. But as new details unfold, Oz discovers there's more to this than meets the eye, and his father isn't as benevolent as he seems...
Genre: Pirate AU. Adventure/Drama
Pairings: Jack/Lacie. Mild Glen/Lotti. Possible Break/older!Sharon/Liam. One-sided Elliot/OC. No yaoi.
Without further ado, I present Friendly Foes!
~Penelope
UPDATE: REVAMPED!
UPDATE: I have been informed by a kind Guest reviewer that I neglected to make my last edits consistent. XP Hopefully that's fixed now... if y'all notice any more inconsistencies, let me know! Editing overhauls tend to do this to me...
Chapter One
"Your Eminence!"
Oz lifted his head at the sound of his father's title, and hurriedly clamped the golden compass pocket watch shut as two of the sailors dragged a struggling form into the cabin. A youth, by the looks of it; he couldn't be much older than Oz himself, perhaps by a year – sixteen, maybe? Scruffy, jaw-length sandy hair flailed as the boy lurched backward in the sailors' hold, but to no avail. He was dressed rather modestly in a loose cotton shirt and burgundy breeches and tall black boots, but the golden family crest that hung on a tassel on his scabbard spoke of his noble birth, and perhaps living. Unless, of course, he'd stolen it…
Behind the desk, his valet Gilbert behind him, Cardinal Jack Vessalius rose slowly to his feet, cocking his head at the strange interruption, but certainly not upset. It took a lot to upset Oz's father… "What do we have here, gentlemen?"
"We caught him hiding away in the galley, Your Eminence. A stowaway!"
The sailors shoved the stranger to his knees, and the lad growled through his teeth, but lifted his gaze to glare at Jack. Oz's eyes widened at the intensity of those eyes – blue as the sea sky on the clearest of days – that seemed mildly familiar. Jack, on the other hand, as well as Gilbert, seemed to know right away who it was, and his characteristic leisurely smile crossed Jack's face, lighting up his emerald gaze.
"Ah, what a surprise! This, I really didn't expect! Imagine – a blood Nightray on the Vessalius barquentine? Tsk, tsk; what will your family say?"
Oz jerked his gaze back to the stranger with wide eyes and a stifled gasp. A blood Nightray? An honest to goodness Nightray? Imagine, seeing one in person like this! Suddenly, the tension in the room seemed all the more exciting.
The Nightray spat on the wooden floor, and snarled up at Jack. "Scum – I'm here to stop you!"
Jack wasn't fazed in the least, though Gilbert fidgeted behind his master's chair. Jack just laughed. "Stop me? In heaven's name, from doing what?"
This only seemed to further agitate the youth, and he lunged toward the Cardinal, only to be jerked violently back by the sailors. "You know very well what, you traitor! You're a disgrace to your country!"
Jack laughed harder. "Imagine, a blood Nightray calling me a traitor! That is rich!"
"Shut up! I'll unearth your plot soon enough, and then the whole world is going to know what a liar you are, Vessalius! You are going to rue the day you crossed my family!"
Shaking his head, Jack waved to the sailors. "You'll have a hard time unearthing anything, my good lad, from the brig. Take him away."
The youth's eyes widened as the sailors hoisted him to his feet, and dragged him toward the door. He recovered just as they were about to haul him out, and began thrashing again, more vehemently than before. "No, you can't do this! You don't have a right!"
Jack chortled. "Of course I do! You're stowing away on my ship; be grateful I don't make you walk off of it."
Even after the sailors shut the door to the cabin, Oz could still hear the Nightray shouting all the way across the deck, until he guessed they went below to the galley, and the brig, and the voice finally grew so distant, he could barely hear it anymore. Then, he glanced to his father and valet, the former of which had lounged back in his chair once more, straightening his roomy scarlet sleeves while Gilbert had his hands on the back of the chair.
"Ahhh…" Jack sighed, staring at the maps strewn about his desk. "…That was exciting, wasn't it, Oz?"
Oz picked his charcoal back up, nodding before making a few more strokes on the parchment (he had been drawing a picture of the whale they had seen just yesterday for his uncle, Oscar, back in France). "Yes… I've never actually met a Nightray before. Besides Gilbert, of course… But that doesn't really count, since he was only adopted." At this, Gilbert looked down at the floor; of course, he wasn't a Nightray any longer, since the Vessalius house had taken him back, forgiven him of his desertion. But still, he had to be embarrassed at his former family's history. And current actions…
Jack smiled at him, gesturing at the door with his hands. "Well, now you have. What do you think?"
Oz looked to the door as well, replaying the scene over in his mind. The ungraceful entrance, the sailors' rough treatment, those fiery cobalt eyes that burned so brightly, and the voice that spoke volumes of courage in addressing France's Cardinal so disrespectfully…
"He seemed to dislike you quite a lot," Oz said finally, meekly, staring down at the parchment. When he chanced to lift his eyes, his anxiety quieted at seeing his father smiling. Though, of course, how could he have expected less? Jack Vessalius always smiled. Oz hoped he could do the same in his life. Smile, no matter what bad was going on around him.
"Yes, he did, didn't he?" Jack lifted his chin, looking quite regal. "A shame; I didn't do anything to him."
Oz cocked his head. "Do you know his name?"
"Not at all," Jack said, shaking his head. "Not that it matters; a Nightray is a Nightray, and a Nightray is a traitor. They're all the same, when it comes right down to it. We'll deal with him when we drop anchor in Portsmouth, eh? Don't let him spoil the rest of our voyage."
"Of course not, Your Eminence." He never called Jack 'father'. No, despite the fact that Gilbert and most of the crew knew. But they had to keep in practice. Nobody else was ever to know, the Cardinal said… though he never deigned to say why.
Oz then, hoping to get back to his drawing, lowered his head again, grateful when Jack said no more. By the time he finished the whale's splashing figure, orange light had begun to stream through the cabin's grand window bay. Finished with his maps, Jack stood, and straightened his cap, waving away Gilbert's fussing.
"Well, then," the man said, smiling at his son, "the day is old; I'm going to see what's afoot, and then we can turn in. Prepare for bed; I'll be back in a minute or two. Come along, Gilbert!"
Oz folded the parchment, and slipped it inside his journal, the pages of which had been inked with his latest entry, of the bold stranger found stowing away on the Cardinal's Grace. "Yes, Your Eminence."
After his father and valet disappeared out onto the deck, Oz slipped his journal under his mattress, and then changed into his bedclothes. He watched and waited for the sun to disappear beyond the waves on the horizon, and then shuffled over by its last waning rays to light the lantern. He had just crawled into his cot and pulled the blanket up to his neck when Jack, and only Jack, returned. Without a word, the man grabbed his own nightclothes, and stepped behind the dressing wall to change. When he emerged again, dressed for bed, he went over to the wardrobe, and hung his scarlet robe and set his cap on its wooden head for the night.
Jack approached Oz's cot, and touched his forehead, smiling softly. "Good night, my boy. May you have sweet dreams."
Oz smiled back. "Good night, Your Eminence."
Then Jack crossed the room to his own cot, and disappeared under the blankets. Silence became master of the seas, save for the splash of the waves against the hull that sounded so distant in the night, though it was only yards away.
Oz was sure that hours passed, and he still could not sleep. He watched his father's breaths even long into the night, and even that comforting steady rhythm could not lull him into slumber. Finally, with a glance at his pocket watch to confirm the time – 11 o' clock! – he swiveled his feet, placing them on the floor. Slowly, he stood, and tiptoed toward the door, grabbing the lantern on his way. One of the floorboards creaked loudly in the silence, and Oz flinched, glancing over to his father's cot.
Jack Vessalius didn't move.
Still holding his breath, Oz scurried for the door, and slipped out onto the deck, trying to remember where all the creaky boards were and managing to avoid a few. In the deepness of the night outside, and the vastness of open space all around the ship, the lantern's light seemed so very small.
Oz kept to the wall, peeking out from behind barrels and crates and other cargo whenever the watchmen passed by. He didn't want to be noticed; not tonight. Not with the destination in mind that he had. Several times, he was sure the watchmen saw him, but he supposed that all the time aboard his father's ship was paying off at last. He managed to reach the door to below deck, and lifted it open near silently. One of the hinges creaked, though, and Oz froze.
"Are you whistling again?" called one watchman to another. Across the deck, the other shook his head, lifting his lantern.
"No! You told me to shut up!"
"Yeah, I did… Must've been hearing things."
"Again!"
"Oi, shut it!"
Without wasting time to hear the rest of their argument, Oz slipped below deck, holding his lantern ahead of him.
The galley was empty, and dark. Oz bypassed it quickly, and then paused at the next doorway. The cot room, where all the mates slept. He could hear Cook snoring even from here! On the other side, he could see the door that would take him into the brig.
He moaned quietly, and then tried looking for the quickest, quietest way through. Any way he tried, he would have to pass by several of the ship's finest. He sighed; he would just have to be silent.
The trek across the room was agonizing! He had to pass Mr. Hands, George Wiley, Henry the Bull, even Gilbert in his cot… Some of the finest sailors France had to offer, and perhaps some of the most dangerous men in the country, and he had to sneak past them, for what? Just to meet one lousy prisoner!? Was it really worth it?
When Oz reached the door at last, felt the adrenaline in his veins, he looked back at the room he had cross, and couldn't help but grin.
Yes. Yes, it was.
He crept into the pitch dark brig; thankfully, the door wasn't locked. Only the cell would be, and he didn't need into it. Holding the lantern aloft, he proceeded forward until the light finally caught the figure of the ship's only prisoner.
The boy had been chained to the post as well as locked in the cell, which meant they really wanted to keep him here. Curious, indeed! He had his head leaned back against the post that held him secure, and his eyes closed. But as soon as Oz's feet shuffled on the floor, those eyes flashed open, and those shoulders went rigid. The Nightray drew his feet closer to him, as if he wanted to stay as far away from Oz as he could. Undeterred, Oz set the lantern down, and sat cross-legged on the floor just outside the cell. He offered the Nightray a smile.
"Hullo!" he whispered, glancing over his shoulder to where the mates slept. "I saw you today, in the Cardinal's cabin; did you really stow away?"
The Nightray closed his eyes again with a 'tch'. "If I hadn't, do you think I would be here?"
"Well…" Oz shrugged. "I guess not. My name is Oz; what's yours?"
"I'm not telling you my name."
A frown spoiled Oz's grin. "Why not?"
"Because you're a Vessalius."
That didn't make sense. Did it? "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You're the Cardinal's son, and that makes you as bad as he is." The stranger wouldn't look at Oz when he spoke. That only made Oz frown harder.
"How did-"
"You look just like him."
Oz supposed that was true. Those that knew of his relation to the Cardinal were paid to keep quiet. He could wander about as he pleased here, but to the outside world, he was simple the Cardinal's ward, left to him by the death of his family. It had never even crossed his mind that someone could guess his lineage simply by looking at him. "How do you know my father?"
"I know of him, and that's enough. I hate him, and all you Vessalius trash."
Oz raised his eyebrows, surprised at this stranger, who he had never met, and his ferocity. How could someone who didn't even know him or his father hate them? It made no sense; wouldn't he even give them a chance? "But… why?"
The Nightray scowled. "Because you're all traitors! Traitors to France, and to the crown! One day, someone is going to expose you for what you really are, and that person is going to be me!"
"Unless you're hanged in England?" Oz deadpanned, to which the stranger actually paled a bit. "Being a stowaway is a capitol offense; the Cardinal won't hesitate with proper judgment."
"W-Well… O-Of course he won't! He's cruel, and unmerciful, and completely unbefitting to lead the Church!"
Oz laughed, but it was dry and without humor. "Well, you obviously don't know him. He's a good man! The best there is! He's kind and good, and everyone loves him! All this talk of being cruel and unmerciful is rich coming from you! You're a Nightray, right? If I'm correct, you're family was the one rumored to be traitors!"
"Lies, all of it!" the Nightray spat, eyes alight in the glimmer of the lantern. "My family would never turn against the crown!"
Oz gave the stranger a hard look. "I've heard that the Nightrays are heartless and untrustworthy! That's why there were stripped of their titles among the dukes!"
"SHUT UP!" the Nightray yelled, and Oz suddenly looked back, hoping none of the sailors had heard. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"
"Well, neither do you when you talk about the Cardinal like that! So maybe you should think about what you say before you say it!" Oz hissed, and the Nightray drew back, surprised.
"Will you tell me your name?" Oz pressed, but the Nightray shook his head.
"No!"
"Then-"
BOOM! The entire ship shuddered, and somewhere on board, wood cracked and splinted, and crashed some more. Oz clapped his hands over his ears, feeling the ship lurch in the water, and hating how it rocked. When he opened his eyes and removed his hands, he heard men shouting, and lots of them; he glanced to the porthole, and saw the glimmer of orange light on the water, lantern light and fire, and a hulking shadow looming close by.
Another ship.
Oz jumped to his feet, and over a cacophony of noise from outside, heard someone calling his name. Gilbert!
"I'm here!" Oz called back, rushing to the brig's door. Gilbert staggered up from the floor, spotting Oz from the middle of the cot room, and waved frantically.
"Quickly! Come with me; you must get back to your quarters!"
"PIRATES!" someone above deck yelled, and then the loud clomp of boots on the deck sounded. The rest of the mates below deck jumped to their feet, and drew their cutlasses before rushing out the door; Gilbert had a time trying not to get swept away with them, and managed to latch onto Oz's arm as he drew close. The black-haired man pulled Oz ahead, and up the steps onto the deck, where Oz saw a sight he'd never forget.
A massive dark ship had pulled broadside the Grace, and men in raggedy clothes were leaping off its masts onto the sails of the Cardinal's ship, grabbing hold of ropes, and rappelling down to join their comrades that were already aboard the ship. Oz could tell immediately who the pirates were, and who were his father's crew – all the pirates wore capes of blood red, and fought with the grace and deadly accuracy of the ancient Samurai.
"Quickly!" Gilbert said above the noise, and drew his sword to defend his charge while they rushed across the deck. Only when the valet was knocked aside by a flying body did Oz slide to a halt, and glance back.
A boy! Gilbert had been deterred by a mere boy! Perhaps as tall as Oz was himself, with long dark hair that hung over his shoulders with sprigs that stuck out in unruly directions and glinted reddish-violet in the torchlight, and golden rings in the one ear that Oz could see, the youth lashed out at the surprised Gilbert with a force that made Oz flinch. Gilbert blocked the boy's strike, and stared with awe.
"Leo!?" Gilbert yelped, only to jump backward again as this 'Leo' continued to strike.
"Sorry, Gil!" the pirate said with a small smirk. "But I believe you have something that we want! Something that doesn't belong to you!"
Gil's eyes widened further, and he again parried the younger's blow, before glancing to Oz. "Master Oz! Go back to your quarters, NOW!"
Oz shook himself aware again, and turned on his heel, making a mad dash across the last stretch of deck between him and his father's cabin. He was almost there!
Something caught his hair, and wrenched him backward, off his feet. He cried out, but barely before an arm snaked around his throat, and dragged him to the ship's edge. With one hoist, his feet dangled over the open space between the two ships, and a single voice shouted over the raging battle.
"GLEN, STOP!"
Father! Help me, please! He begged and pleaded in his mind, but with the arm around his neck, he could scarcely breathe, much less speak. The arm around his throat loosened only a bit, and the body of the person holding him turned slightly.
"Ahh… Jack, there you are. It's been a long while; how have you been faring?"
"I'd fare much better if you put down the boy, Glen."
Glen chuckled, and Oz felt the rumble of his chest on his back, and shuddered. He didn't like that chuckle. "You know I can't do that. Not until we get what we came for."
"We have no spoils, Glen! We're on an envoy mission to England; I'm sure you're aware of this."
"You're a liar, but it's not spoils that I want. Not this time. You have a more valuable cargo on board; something… living. Breathing. Someone quite important to us."
Oz tried to stretch his eyes to look over; he could barely glimpse his father, beside the cabin door, eyes wide and glistening in the firelight. The battle had come to a standstill, blades still drawn and ready to resume at any moment the order was given. The boy called Leo had disarmed Gilbert, and left the valet at Jack's side, with both blades – Leo's, and his own – pointed at him.
Jack's eyes went wider. "The Nightray? You can't be serious! You nearly sink my ship, slaughter my men, and threaten to drown an innocent boy, all for the Nightray!?"
Glen nodded. "Yes, actually. Now, if you would please?"
"I'll get him, Glen-sama!" Leo prodded Gilbert with the point of his own blade. "Where's the brig? If I know you, that's where you've put him."
Gilbert glanced to Jack, who nodded quickly, and then Gil pointed across the deck. "Through the galley and the bunker; the keys…" Gilbert then fished with trembling hands along his belt, gaze drawn incessantly to Oz just as Jack's was, before he handed the key ring to Leo. The young pirate examined the ring, nodded, and then sprinted over to the stairs leading below deck.
Only a moment or two passed before Leo emerged again, this time behind the previously imprisoned Nightray, who held Gilbert's sword. The Nightray came out looking like he was ready for anything, especially a fight, and seemed taken aback by the standstill.
Jack reacted immediately, squaring a hard gaze at the pirate leader. "There – you have your Nightray, now give the boy back!"
Glen seemed to hesitate, tilting his head, but not releasing Oz. "Mmm… Yes, I did say I would, didn't I… Men, return to the Chain. We're done here."
The pirates were even silent in their retreat, and Oz held his breath as they departed, leaping back to their own deck and disappearing into darkness with their newly freed prisoner. Soon, Glen was the only one left.
"Let him go, Glen! Now!" Jack ordered, done with games. But Glen still did not release him. Oz peered down at the water lurking below, and swallowed hard.
"I know you, Jack Vessalius," Glen said, louder than before. "I know you quite well… We were friends once, you and I; but… you are so treacherous… And I can't have you sending my ship to Davy Jones as soon as I let your precious boy go."
At the same moment, identical emerald eyes widened, and Gilbert jumped forward, but too late. Jack yelled. "Glen, NO!"
But Glen had already taken the massive leap onto his ship, with his arm still looped about young Oz Vessalius' neck. He landed with a thump, and didn't even hesitate a second.
"Cut the ropes! Loose all sails, and hard to port! Get us away from that ship, and fast! We need to evade her guns!"
The pirates reacted immediately, and within seconds, the pirate ship had pulled forward, even as the Grace's cannons fired, however pitifully. Jack was trying to cripple the ship. Still, the idea of going down with the pirates terrified Oz, and he tried as he might to loosen the grip about his neck.
"Let me go!" he croaked, clawing at the arm that held him. "I can't…"
"Leo!" Glen twisted his arm, and threw Oz forward onto the deck. "Take him below; not to the brig, but keep an eye on him. Give him a bit of bread, and then show him his new cot for the time being… He won't try anything, if I know Jack at all."
A thin hand gripped his arm, and Oz staggered to his feet to meet mellow violet eyes of the boy that had disarmed Gilbert. In the darkness, his appearance looked menacing, but the soft light in those eyes… looked nothing like a pirate. Leo offered a weak smile.
"Come on; you're going to be staying with us for a while…"
Oz tried to look back, but the Nightray blocked his view with a scowl on his face. That night, Oz didn't even get a good look at his kidnapper before he was led below deck, fed, shown his cot, and left to sleep. But both Leo and the Nightray remained in the doorway of the bunker, and didn't move. Their silhouettes were the last thing Oz remembered before a restless slumber claimed him prey.
A/N: R&R? ^-^
