AN: Here is Chapter 2. Hope you enjoy it and thank you to my beta Cara (kuhummel on tumblr). Please review and tell me what you think :)
Chapter 2
Santana woke up to the unexpected sound of yelling and the high pitched screams of a female voice. The Latina jumped from her hammock and ran up the wooden steps to the main deck, following the noise, her heart racing and her mind bringing horrific images of the blonde slave's body mangled and contorted. She stopped abruptly when she passed the brig, retracing her steps and hurriedly marching into the location of where the yelling was unbearably loud.
"What do you think you are doing?" Santana all but screeched as her eyes darted around the cell, stopping on the blonde girl lying on the floor, breathing heavily and crying loudly. One of the crew members stepped back from her, laughing, as the skinny slave who arrived with her was straining against his shackles to get to the blonde, his wrists bleeding from the force.
The man swiftly turned around as the Latina yelled, the grin quickly disappearing from his ugly face. Although Santana was a girl, she was highly respected by the crew. As a single male member of the ship's company had yet to beat to her in sword play.
"Brooks, you know these slaves are for Captain Anderson only, so take your leave in the crow's nest. I don't want see your ugly face until sunrise do you hear me?" The shorter woman roared, using all her strength to pull the man out of the brig and back out on to the deck.
Fear flashed across the man's face because he knew that although the Latina may be small, she could have him marooned if he did anything to upset the captain. Still shoving the larger man, Santana could smell the alcohol on his breath, though he seemed to have sobered up after the shock of her bursting in on him. Santana kicked the burly man hard in the leg as he left, just to instil how close she was to reporting him to the captain.
The small woman then returned her attention to the figure that was now quietly whimpering and shivering on the floor. In the corner, the boy continued to fight against his shackles. The young blonde was still bound, but it looked like Brooks had decided that he was going to give her a beating and had pulled her into the centre of the cell. The Latina entered the locked barred room, closing the door tightly behind her. Santana tentatively reached out her hand to place it on a blemish that looked worryingly dark against the white skin, and as soon as her tanned skin made contact with the pale grimy skin; the blonde flinched like the touch had burned her. Santana felt a pang of guilt as she leant down by the fragile figure. She couldn't help but think as if it was her fault that this innocent girl had just been attacked by a drunken crew member; she should have stayed guard or something.
"I'm trying to help you," Santana said, attempting to keep a steely tone, but the sight of the bruised blonde and the sounds of her quiet cries were too hard for Santana to bear.
Santana dragged the limp body to lean her up against the wall, so that she could get a better look at the girl's injuries. From the corner, Santana could hear the boy's chains rattling again.
"Shut it," Santana shot at him, before turning back to the girl.
It seemed that she only had a few bruises, some grazes and she was merely shaken up a bit, but it was a lucky escape because the Latina had seen Brooks do a lot more damage than this.
"Don't move," Santana said, looking into the scared blue eyes for a moment too long.
The Latina hastily left the room and gathered some supplies from the deck below. Santana fumbled with the supplies as she ran back up the wooden steps to the brig, her hands shaking with nerves as she rushed to relieve the young slave of her pain. Santana had never felt the need to be completely protective of another person, but the sensation was creeping up on her now and she wasn't sure why.
The small woman quickly leant next to the girl and held out the bread for her to take. Santana watched as the blonde hesitantly took the food, taking a bite before ripping it in half and throwing it across the room to the boy in the corner who had just been trying to help her. Santana had never seen such an act of kindness between slaves and it made the Latina realise that even in such horrific circumstances, this girl could still see the light.
Santana took a rag and dipped it into a bowl of water that she had brought up from below deck, beginning to lightly dab at the blonde's wounds. She winced at the touch, but did not pull away, signalling to Santana that she could continue with the action. When the blonde was seen to, the Latina tended to the boy's wrists, which were cut and bruised from the rough iron shackles. Santana shook her head and let out a sigh. She still couldn't understand why the captain had kept these two. They did not look like they were seafaring folk and they probably didn't even know how to hoist a sail.
Once all wounds were clean, Santana pushed the bottle of rum towards the girl. "Drink, you will need your strength. You two have a hard days labour tomorrow."
Santana didn't want to leave the vulnerable girl's side but knew that it would seem improper for her to spend the night in the brig with the slaves; it would probably cause questions to be asked by the men. So once the two slaves had had their drink, the Latina collected the remaining supplies and strode out of the brig and back up to her quarters, unable to sleep with the cries of the blonde still ringing in her ears.
Blaine awoke to the sun creeping into the room as it rose from the sea, signalling that it was dawn. In the distance, he heard the sounds of the crew above carrying out their duties. The captain had had little sleep; every time he closed his eyes he saw pale blue eyes staring back at him, with the same judging look that had shaken him. He rolled over, facing the wooden slats of the wall and rested his head against the rough material, wondering why he was so affected by what this boy thought of him. Why did he have the urge to impress him, and why did he have the urge to comfort him? It just didn't make sense. He was a slave.
There was a loud banging on the door which caused him to jump. "Yes. What is it?" Blaine snapped angrily, the noise carrying through the thick wooden door.
"The slaves need their orders Captain," a gruff voice replied on the other side of the wooden panel.
"Okay," Blaine said, nodding although he couldn't be seen and he could soon hear the shuffling of boots moving back up on deck.
The captain pulled on his emerald breeches, knee length jack boots and silk shirt, before making his way out of the Captains quarters to deal with the slaves. Blaine ran his hands through his tangled hair as he marched to the where the slaves were being held, knowing that when he entered, he would be met by the same eyes that had caused him to have a sleepless night.
Santana stood at the door, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Looks like she had a rough night too, Blaine thought to himself as the shorter woman opened the door for him to enter. When in the brig, the captain looked through the bars and his eyes gravitated to the quivering couple in the corner.
Anderson heard the Latina enter behind him. "Keys, Lopez," he said, holding out hit hand until he felt the cold metal touch his skin.
As he unlocked the door and moved into the cell, the two slaves cowered, shrinking further into the corner and the boy held his arms protectively around the blonde. Blaine withdrew his sword from his belt and began to swing it aimless around in front of him. He stopped suddenly, and pointed the blade at the boy, causing him to yell. This was all just a show for Blaine; any yells that were heard above would only instil his power to the crew. Retracting the weapon slightly Blaine looked into the somewhat familiar pale blue eyes.
"Do you speak the Kings English?" he said, looking at them and internally praying that they did, otherwise they would be of no use and would have to be thrown overboard.
When neither of them answered, Blaine moved the sharp edge of his cutlass closer to the boy's face. "Answer me!" Captain Anderson bellowed his eyes hardening as he continued to stare at the slave.
"Yes," the boy said feebly from the corner.
Blaine withdrew his sword "Her too?" he asked, nodding his head in the direction of the girl.
"Yes," the younger boy replied, looking down to the floor.
Anderson turned on his heel and began to pace around the room, thinking what he jobs he could allocate for them. The silence in the cell was almost deafening. As he paced, he glanced at the Latina and saw her staring at the blonde slave.
"Names," Blaine demanded of them. Keeping his sentences short would prevent any emotion creeping into his voice.
"Kurt and Brittany," he answered quietly and Blaine could feel the other boy's eyes following him. The captain stopped in front of them again looking down on the pair.
"Captain Anderson at your service," Blaine said proudly, taking his hat off with a flourish and bowing. Blaine straightened up and looked back at them.
"Well Kurt and Brittany, welcome aboard the Ligeia," he said, gesturing around the cell.
"What is your age?" Blaine asked, trying to hide his curiosity. They looked no older than twenty. Their years could affect what jobs they do, Blaine justified in his own head.
"Twenty one and three quarters," Kurt mumbled, not bothering to look up at the captain.
"And the girl?" Blaine asked abruptly, annoyed at the lack of respect Kurt was showing
"Look at me when I am talking to you!" Blaine said crossly, moving closer to the shackled boy.
"She will be twenty in the coming months," Kurt answered, forcing his reluctant eyes to look at Blaine.
The captain felt somewhat hurt when he saw the unwillingness to make eye contact, since realistically, Kurt should be thanking him for saving him from the slave ship. What did Blaine care anyway? As he'd thought before, Kurt was just a meaningless slave.
"You are to swab the decking until it is clean enough to use as a dining table," Blaine said dismissively.
"Lopez, you see to it that it is done properly," he added before he strode out of the cell with one last look at Kurt.
Blaine came to a halt; however, to watch as Santana roughly pulled the couple up off the floor and towards him. As the slaves stumbled, Anderson saw a glint of gold in the candle light around the neck of the girl. Once Kurt and Brittany were out of the cell, the captain reached forward and pulled the girl towards him, inspecting the polished ring that was around the blonde's neck. He snatched it and looked at her questioningly. The blonde winced at the tug of the twine around her neck and tried to reach out to grab the jewellery. Upon examination, Blaine decided that it was definitely an engagement ring. Small but precious material would be worth some money. Strangely, at the thought of it being a wedding ring, Blaine's stomach dropped. It caused him to feel a sudden wrench jealousy which confused the captain further.
"Take the lovebirds to get brushes and lather," he said, masking his emotions with a sneer.
Santana had an equally confused and angry look on her face, but the Latina wasn't as good at hiding her emotions and it was apparent that the woman was also having a bout of emotions at the sight of the ring.
Blaine stormed out of the brig, needing to feel the fresh and familiar sea air on his face. Maybe the spray of the salt water would shake the concoction of emotions that was overrunning his body like parrot fever. Within several minutes of being on the main deck of the ship, the slaves were swabbing the deck, the sun beating down on their backs as the shouts of Santana Lopez resounded in their ears. Captain Anderson stood and watched from the quarter deck, his dark eyes being met by Kurt's pastel blue in a belligerent glare.