Antonio

When Antonio woke the next morning, Bella was gone. She never stayed through until morning. It was not her way. She did not want to be seen as an item with the Captain. She had no intentions for the crew to think she was Antonio's favourite. She came to relieve their frustrations before escaping back to her own cabin for the rest of her night. He knew all of this, of course, and he wasn't bothered by it. He had no real feelings for the woman, and she felt the same. It was a simple relationship for them. The sex was casual. Nothing more. That was why he wasn't bothered when she wasn't there when he woke. He was alone in his bed, resting easily.

He didn't stay locked away in his cabin for long. He dressed, shaved some of the stubble from his face, and started his day with a few drinks. He made sure they were on course for the small pirate stronghold where he usually docked his ship when he wasn't pillaging the seas and went down to the brig to check on his prisoners. He'd have to let some of them out soon. He wasn't going to have a bunch of freeloaders on his ship. He also had to be wary of them. Some were more inclined towards escape compared to others. They were far enough away from land to have any of them escape, but he didn't want to find someone with a knife over him in the middle of the night. He wouldn't put it past Jones or the older Vargas brother. Hell, Lovino had tried his hand once already. On the day he had arrived, Antonio had made the mistake of underestimating him. That had very nearly been a deadly mistake...

It was early morning. The Captain had just arrived at the Wandering Anna Maria, which was anchored a mile or two offshore. Antonio took the lead climbing up the side of the ship followed by the brothers and finally Bella. In the meantime, the crew winched up the skiff that they had sailed up onto the ship.

That was their first mistake that morning. Taking the bindings off of those boys in order to allow them to climb.

"Capitaine, what do you want to do with them?" Bella asked. She pronounced the word 'Captain' like her brother did. The French way.

"Put them to work. Find them something to do, no?" Antonio said with a shrug. He took a look around his ship. It could use a good varnish, maybe. "Have they clean or something. I have a lacquer down below that needs to be put on the railings."

Bella nodded easily and gestured for the two boys to follow her. That was their second mistake. Letting those two, the older, in particular, go anywhere near the crew. The crew was a rowdy sort. They weren't prim and proper like those of the British Royal Navy. They were men in the most basic form. They were more than willing to grope and touch a man with a pretty face that passed by, especially after isolation on the sea.

And they did just that to both of the little Italians as they passed on by. His crew was going to realize rather quickly that around older, that was a terrible mistake.

The Captain heard the younger squeak loudly. Then there a few gasps and a couple shouts of dismay coming from the crew. There was a longer groan of pain and finally the drawing of a sword. Several others followed suit. Each of these sounds occurred when Antonio's back was turned. He spun around to face whatever was making such a noise and landed his green eyes on the older brother. One of the crew lay on the ground, clutching desperately at his groin regions. His sword was in the hand of the older brother. He held it easily as if he had handled one before. Allistor had said that he was raised on the streets. Did that mean he was a young thug? Antonio rolled his eyes. This child was already causing him problems and he hadn't been aboard the ship for more than a few minutes.

What he found most interesting and entirely irritating about this situation was the position of his first mate. Bella stood off to the side, leaning against the main mast. She looked bored by the situation. She didn't even make a move to take the sword from the insolent child. The Captain rolled his eyes in disgust. That woman could be so lazy at times. At least she kept an eye on the younger brother. He stood beside her, frozen in place. He was petrified, but she had what seemed to be a calming hand on his shoulder.

When the older brother gestured for his brother to follow and started back towards the skiff they had sailed in on, Antonio figured he might as well intervene. It'd be no help if his prisoners escaped on their first day. The Captain drew his sword easily and silently before placing its tip at the neck of the young boy. The Italian stilled and snorted before letting the tip of the sword dip to the floor. The blade sagged in his hand in defeat. He seemed to know when he had been beaten.

But the Captain had been a fool to underestimate the boy. He had been warned, but had he listened? No.

"Drop the sword, boy," he said in a low voice. Antonio watched from behind the Italian as the blade began to dangle from his fingertips. Antonio began to lower his own blade. That is where he had made his mistake.

As soon as the bone-chilling tip of the sword was removed from his neck, the boy attacked. He tightened his grip on the hilt of the blade and swung. Although Antonio sidestepped the blow easily, he had to admit that the boy had good form. He seemed to know the logistics of swordplay, but Antonio could tell he was not well practiced. He knew what he was doing, but he was slow. A smile grew on the Spaniard's lips. This would be an easy battle. Antonio was all about speed. He gracefully reached out and snatched the boy's opposite wrist. He easily twisted it up and behind his back before placing the blade of his sword to the boy's neck.

"Drop the sword," Antonio snarled.

He heard the clatter of a blade falling and he smiled a cold smile.

"Bella, take this one down below," he said, shoving the boy towards his first mate. He could handle the younger looking one without even drawing his sword. He seemed too frightened to even stand up properly. Antonio looked at the crew, namely the one struggling to his feet. He assumed the Italian's foot had connected with his balls. He snorted. Pathetic. "The rest of you lot. Get the fuck back to work."

The Spaniard took one last look at the boy before gesturing for the younger to follow him. He was going to take him to the cook. While he was there, he was going to get some wine. That sounded like the best idea he'd had all morning.

That had been two days prior. Now he walked slowly across the deck of his ship, Lovino in towe. It was the first time he was allowing him out of his cell. He hadn't even tried to pull the boy from his cell. He really just went down to retrieve his coat.

Lovino was asleep when he walked down the wooden stairs only minutes prior to that moment. He was curled on the floor on his side, covered by the red coat Antonio had so kindly lent him. The Captain watched him for a moment before opening the cell and stepping inside. He nudged the boy with his foot and woke him. Lovino groaned in response.

"Come now, boy," he said, pulling his coat from the top of the Italian's frame. He slipped it onto his arms, relishing in the security and familiarity it brought him. He nudged the boy's body again. "I'm not wishing to wait on you all day. Get a move on, no?"

The Italian stood slowly and straightened his rumpled clothes. He didn't speak. He merely followed Antonio's orders. The Captain turned towards the stairs that led up. Before he started up them, however, he spoke, his eyes focussed ahead of him. "Don't try anything funny, boy. I'm allowing you a bit of freedom. Don't abuse it. Don't wreak havoc on my ship, or I will ensure that you do not see daylight again until your grandfather pays for you to see it. I make myself clear, no?"

"Crystal..." Lovino muttered.

"In the meantime, I will leave you in cuffs. I don't trust you, and I won't for quite a while. Give me your wrists. Now."

"The Italian held out his wrists, and Antonio locked the cuffs around them tightly. He pulled on them a bit to make sure that they were locked securely in place. With that, they made their way onto the deck. And that was what led them to where they were. The boy followed behind the Captain, awaiting some sort of order. Antonio heard his soft steps behind him with the jangle of chains. He hears his soft breaths. He could have sworn he could hear Lovino's pounding heart, too.

"You'll be here until your grandfather decides that he wants to come and retrieve you. If the two of you become a burden on me or my crew, I will write him. I will gladly tell him of your impending deaths. If he does not retrieve you within a few weeks of my letter, you will be killed." Antonio shrugged nonchalantly. "Mercilessly. Your brother, however, may be spared. I have reasons to assume that my crew has taken a liking to the young one. I might let them keep him. Not often we get pretty, young boys like him. Not often we get pretty men at all. There are never any women at sea aside from Bella, but she was born on these waters, so she is the exception. Otherwise, it is just bad luck." Antonio said.

He shuddered slightly after mentioning that the last bit. He thought himself not to be a very superstitious man, but some of his crew could say otherwise. He always had a pocketful of posies when he went into a disease-ridden area, but he had reasons for that, reasons he'd rather not think of. He looked at Lovino and offered him a smirk instead. They were touring the ship, but Antonio was a terrible guide. He didn't care to explain anything to the kid.

"But your brother and the musician, now they are a sight for sore eyes. I would have given the musician to the crew to use and abuse, but I promised my dear friend Gilbert that I'd find someone for him after a night of intense sobriety on my part. We shared so many feelings that night... But that is beside the point. I think Gilbert wanted a woman, but who knows? I'll throw the Austrian in something scandalous before showing him to Gilbert. And that British captain as well. He's got a pretty face, no? What the hell am I supposed to do with him? I don't know. I'm sure that unless there is some sort of bindings that I'll never be able to give him to the crew. He's far too resourceful for that. Maybe I'll sell him. Maybe I'll sell all of you." Antonio shrugged once again. "You they'd like if you weren't so violent. Your mouth doesn't help, either but then again, some of these men would like that, no? They like having a bit of a fight. The resistance makes it more thrilling for them."

Antonio turned back to the older Italian once he reached the center of the deck. His face was red and contorted with rage and anger. He seemed not to care about anything in general on a day to day basis, but when it came to his safety and the safety of his brother, he could certainly be set off. Antonio looked at Lovino deviously, choosing his next words carefully. He had to set Lovino off. He enjoyed it far too much.

"The crew has asked me why I haven't handed you over to them yet. I'm sure I could succumb to their wishes. They would certainly enjoy seeing a set of brothers dance for them, don't you think?" Antonio offered Lovino a cheshire-like grin. "Don't worry, though, they won't hurt you too badly. It could be painful at first, though. You are a virgin, sí?" The Italian had a look of pure rage that Antonio was overjoyed to see. He didn't mask his amusement. He let it show freely on his features. He didn't care much for transparency. "Ah, just try not to worry about that. Just enjoy yourself, no?"

"Don't you dare talk about Feliciano and me like that, bastard!" Lovino snapped. "Don't you dare think we'll enjoy any of that bullshit. You're a sick, sick bastard. Don't you dare let those bastards touch Feliciano, or else-"

"Or else what?" Antonio asked, a malicious gleam growing in his green eyes. "What can you do? You're in chains. When you're out of them, you fall too easily to another man's sword. You're pathetic. So tell me, boy, or else what?"

"I..." he trailed off, looking to the ground. He looked like he had a lot to say, but was making some attempt to hold his tongue.

For once the boy was being wise.

"Exactly," the Captain said. "You have a lot of fire in you, kid. I can either help you or kill you. I'd be wise with your words in the future. Don't challenge my authority."

The Italian nodded, a scowl plastered on his features.

"Bood. Now have you come to a decision? Will you behave for the remainder of your time on my ship?"

The boy reluctantly nodded once more. Antonio had his doubts about that, though. He had no real assurance that the boy would behave.

"Good, good. Follow me, then. I will show you to my quarters. You will need to become familiar with my ship, the Wandering Anna Maria. You will also need to listen to myself and my first mate, Bella. I want to hear of no back sass, sí? You'll get yourself into more trouble if you do, especially with Bella."

Lovino nodded one final time, and Antonio turned away. He walked through a door that led into a hallway. The hallway branched off into a few different room of the ship, but at the end was where Antonio was headed. There was a set of double doors that opened to reveal his quarters. Antonio stepped through the threshold of the room, the Italian in tow behind him. He moved to the center of the room while Antonio closed the door. He spoke with his back to Lovino. "You will only be allowed in here if I bring you here or if I summon you. You are not to come to me with inane issues. I don't want to hear about your problems." Antonio walked to his desk and took a swig from the bottle of rum that was there.

"Understood," Lovino said.

Antonio turned back to him after setting down the rum and held out his hand. "Give me your hands. There's no point to those cuffs. You can't work if you have them..." he murmured.

The boy complied and held out his wrists to the Captain. Antonio pulled the key from the pocket of his red coat and unlocked the shackles. He tossed them onto the desk at the center of his quarters before looking over the boy. He seemed nervous. "Don't piss yourself, kid. I'm not going to rape you if that's what you're thinking."

Lovino visibly relaxed, and Antonio snorted.

"I'm not that much of a monster. I merely say things to gauge your reactions. I would never do something like that. My crew, I cannot speak for, but I have some boundaries," the Spaniard said, his back to the boy once again. His brow was furrowed as he took another swig from the bottle on his desk. He glanced back at Lovino briefly before speaking again. "Although I might add, I was not lying about your brother and my crew. I really think that after the short period of time that you've been present on deck, that they have become infatuated with him."

"He's sixteen. That's just sick, the stupid fucking bastards."

There was a two year age gap between the boys. That was intriguing. They looked like they could have been twins. Their mannerisms, however, proved the truth in their age difference.

"Hush, boy. I don't want to hear it. Your brother will be fine. I'd be more concerned about yourself right now. You need to watch yourself around the crew. They are always thirsty for blood, and it is not often that that bloodlust is satiated. While I'm around, I am able to keep them on a tight leash, but I haven't the slightest clue what they'd do to you when I'm not around. But remember. If you piss me off, you'll lose that protection."

The Spaniard shook his head. This was the kindest he was going to be to the boy. He slowly sat down behind his desk, kicking his feet up onto the wood. He found he was too restless when he was standing. From his seated position, he could enjoy the bottle of rum in his hand.

"What are your skills, boy?"

Lovino furrowed his brow for a moment and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do you need to know, bastard?"

"Because I need to see what use you'll be for me over the next few months. I am not a patient man. Answer my questions without sass."

Lovino snorted but answered anyways. "Not much, really. I'm not as good of an artist as Feliciano. I can't work with wood. I can lift, but I prefer not to. I can handle myself with a sword, but obviously, I'm rusty. I can cook, too. And I know the riggings of a ship decently," he said. He then hesitantly added, "I'm a good pickpocket, too."

"A pickpocket?" Antonio asked, his brow raised. He didn't believe that a clumsy looking kid like this could pull that off.

"Yes, and a damn good one at that."

"There's got to be a half-decent story to this, no?"

"It's none of your business, bastard."

"Tell me."

"No."

"That wasn't a question."

"I don't care. No."

"One."

"I'm not a child. You don't need to fucking count."

"Two."

What are you going to do when you get to three? Spank me?" The Italian's voice was laced with sarcasm. His idea wasn't half bad, either.

"Thr-"

"Okay! Fine... I'll tell you the damned story, you nosy fucking bastard," Lovino conceded.

"Antonio nodded, but on the inside, he was a little putout. Lovino's idea of spanking seemed so remedial, yet it drew him in. He would have loved to try it. "Tell."

"When I was six, I ran away to the southern end of Italy. Hitch hiked and backpacked all the way to the tip of the country. The kids down there didn't know my name, so they called me Romano because that was the last place I had visited. A couple of thieves took me in, taught me to pick pockets. I was small enough to get the objects. No one noticed me, and because I was so small, people pitied me, especially the women-"

"So you were a ladies man at the age of six. Bravo," Antonio interjected.

"You can say that," he said with a little smirk. "Anyways, I didn't miss home at all. I didn't miss Grandpa doting on Feliciano. I didn't miss doing chores - not that I actually did them anyways. I grew up there, on the streets. Cooked for some of the kids before I got a job at a small restaurant. It helped pay for some of them to survive. I lived there until I was almost seventeen. Then one day, Grandpa found me on one of his trips south." Lovino visibly deflated after that sentence. His voice grew quiet and his brow furrowed in confusion. "I was sitting at the docks and he saw me. He told me that he recognized my curl. Told me I looked like my little brother. I looked like him? He hugged me, but I hardly remembered him, but why would I want to after that comparison?" Lovino asked with a shrug of his shoulders. He seemed conflicted. His brow had knitted further inwards. "Supposedly he had been searching for me for the previous eight years, but I didn't care. I enjoyed my time in the south. The thief that raised me taught me and the other urchins how to set the sails on a ship. He taught us the riggings. I met so many people. I met pretty girls... I loved it there. I was happy. I guess I got bitter when Grandpa made me come back and had the thief hanged for kidnapping. I had every right to be bitter. Feliciano was worse than when I left, too. He was such a child. He had learned nothing, and I wasn't going to be the one to teach him, either."

"You grew up on the streets, yet you came from a privileged family? You ran away. Most would call you insane, boy," Antonio mused. "Well, you have some skills, so let's put you to work."

Lovino nodded.

Antonio stood from behind his desk and led him the boy from his quarters onto the main deck. He led him to Bella who was instructing the younger Italian on how to go about climbing the rigging. Supposedly Lovino already knew this.

"Bella!" Antonio called as they approached.

"Oui?" the woman asked.

"We still have that paint from when I had my beloved ship last touched up, sí?"

"Oui. It's down below," she replied, her back to him. She didn't seem all that concerned with what he had to say. She was busy teaching the kid in front of her how to climb.

"Well, I was thinking..." Antonio trailed.

"That's never a good idea, Capitaine," she stated.

Antonio shot Bella a glare that she didn't see before carrying on his way. "I was thinking... Now that we have two Italian painters on our hands, why don't we fix up my beloved Anna Maria on the hull of the ship, no?"

The younger of the two brothers immediately squealed in delight of the sound of a new, artistic project. The other looked entirely unamused.

"I told you that I don't paint. Besides. How the hell do you expect us to paint that? We're over the ocean. We'd fall," Lovino stated, his voice bitter and full of biting sarcasm. "You wouldn't want to lose precious cargo after only two days, now would you?"

"Very carefully," the Captain replied.

"You're crazy, Spanish bastard."

"You and my crew know that well enough. If you don't wish to, then I'll find you another project. You can always scrub and varnish the deck. Help the cook in the galley. Menial work."

The sound of the galley peaked Lovino's interests, but his expression fell shortly after. He snorted as he shook his head. "No. You'd just endanger my brother's life that way. I won't have him helping you on your crazy ideas," he snapped. He then turned to his brother. "Feliciano-" So that was the younger one's name. "I won't have you endangering yourself. I don't want to hear any sort of argument, either. Do you understand me?"

The younger boy nodded glumly. It was obvious that his brother was harsh on him, but it also seemed that he cared. That was something.

"Look, Feli, I just don't want you to break your neck. You don't know anything about this place. You will learn to climb, but in the meantime, I don't want you hanging over the fucking ocean."

"Don't worry, Lovino, Bella will teach me how to climb the ship!"

"I don't want you doing jack shit unless I'm there," Lovino snapped.

The boy nodded once more. At this point, the Captain felt the need to interject after watching the argument from the sidelines.

"This is my ship, boy. Don't go ordering people around. I will have you back in your cell before you can bat a lash," Antonio snapped, towering over Lovino. "Do you understand me?"

The Italian scowled and said nothing. For this one time only, Antonio let the gesture slide and took his silence as a form of agreement.

"Get the paint from down below. You can get to work immediately. I advise you to remain steady. If you fall, I will not go get you. Besides, the waters are cold this early in the year."

The boy nodded before disappearing below deck. Antonio, in turn, walked away from the crew. He found himself upon the stern of the ship. Someone else was sailing. He thought the man's name was Lars or something of the sort. Antonio couldn't be sure. He simply ignored the man. He smiled briefly and looked out onto the ocean. He hoped the day would remain quiet. He could have work done on the ship and sail peacefully.

Hopefully.

Of course, those hopes were dashed to pieces upon the sighting of a certain ship on the horizon. This one, in particular, was familiar and friendly. For the most part. The Captain looked back at Bella on the lower deck who was teaching the younger Italian how to climb the riggings. He hated to interrupt her, but then again, he didn't care.

"Bella, I need to talk to you in my quarters, right away."

The Captain sat in the cushioned chair behind his desk, his red coat draped over the back of his seat. He looked upon his first made, Bella, with a calculating gaze. She sat on the edge of his desk with an elegant flourish. Just like her damned brother...

"I saw Allistor's ship on the horizon," he said. He was getting straight to the point. Allistor would be there soon. "We need to prepare to allow him passage onto the ship."

A concerned expression flashed on Bella's features. "I don't trust him."

"You don't trust anyone," Antonio countered.

"His one loyalty is gold. He's not an honest or honorable man."

"I know, but what pirate is?"

"He will turn on you the second he gets a higher buyer. And he won't fail to admit it, either," the woman said. She was such a feisty woman, in conversation and in bed.

The Spaniard allowed a sigh to escape his lips. "I know."

"For all we know he set this up. He could be on the side of the Italians and the British. Your head has a bounty large enough to set a man well enough off for life, 'Tonio."

"I would like to believe that I can trust him. He's never failed me before," the Captain said, running a hand over his tired face. He picked up the bottle of rum from the table and took a long sip. It had been full that morning, but the stressors of that day alone had caused him to drain in its entirety.

"There has never been anyone crazy enough to employ him aside from you," she said, wringing her hands in frustration. "And there has never been a larger bounty on your head."

There was a conveniently timed knock on the door.

"Enter!" Antonio yelled.

The door opened and in walked Lars. "Captain, the crew and captain of the Gaelic Flyer wish to board.

"Allow them entry. Dismissed," Antonio said with a wave of his hand.

"Yes, Sir."

Antonio looked back to Bella. "We'll talk about this later. Breathe not a word of it."

"Yes, Sir," she said with a drawl of sarcasm. Only she could test the waters with him like so.

"Prepare to receive Allistor. Send him in when he sets foot on deck."

"Yes, Sir," Bella said again.

"Dismissed."

"Thank you, Sir."

Bella left the room and Antonio was left alone to his thoughts for a brief moment. Allistor had yet to send him word of went on in Britain. He knew for damned sure that he had escaped the man was slick enough to evade capture after providing information to Augustus Vargas. Still, Antonio himself had no word. Not yet at least. He had been waiting for Allistor. And he knew the man would just walk right in without the escort of his crew. And Antonio was right. He did just that. Antonio's green gaze shifted upwards towards the door where he saw Allistor standing in the dim light. He had no expression on his features. He simply turned and locked the door after shutting it.

"You have word from Britain, I presume?" the Captain asked cooly.

Allistor nodded. "I spoke to Augustus Vargas after they sent the ship that attacked you yesterday. They realized you were hovering on the coast for a reason. They hadn't realized you were taking the boys until after they were gone. They wouldn't have sent the Navy otherwise. They were hoping they could take them by force, but you've proven otherwise."

The Captain nodded. "And the Grandfather's reaction?"

"Augustus Vargas is furious. He was once a General for the Italian Navy, and he was fully prepared to launch another attack. I've spoken to him of your background, and he is more than willing to reason with you. He is willing to pay. He fears for his grandson's lives. He fears that you will kill them after yesterday's attack. I assured him I'd speak to you, Anthony. They are still alive, I presume?"

"Of course. What do you take me for? I'm not that careless," he replied.

"He hesitates, in wait of funds. I'm sure he is willing to pay any amount for their safe return."

"Good... Good..." Antonio said slowly. "They will be returned in two months. Augustus better have the gold. And tell him I've upped my price because of the damages to Anna Maria. Tell him an extra chest of gold should suffice."

Allistor nodded easily. "I can do that for you, but I must warn you, Anthony, that Augustus Vargas knows of my skills. He knows I'm more than just a man with the right information. I fear he is looking to get the money to hire my services once his grandsons are returned, if not sooner."

"To kill me." The Captain's voice was resolute.

"Precisely," Allistor said. "I hold allegiance to no one, Spaniard. In this world, only one thing holds any assurance and value, and that is gold."

Bella had surely been right on one aspect.

"I understand. Your payment for you last venture is here."

"Good."

"Take two of my crew members to carry it. Your chest is in the corner. Payment for this excursion is there as well," Antonio said, gesturing with his ringed hand to a large, gilded chest.

Allistor nodded curtly and left the cabin. Antonio stood and followed after him., his strides slow and leisurely. He walked back out into the morning sunlight after the Scot. His crew kept working, keeping his ship afloat, but their gazes occasionally shifted towards them. And then he noticed there were those that were not working. They weren't his crew. They were entirely unfamiliar to him. Allistor's crew did not trust him. They boarded the Wandering Anna Maria ship to protect their captain. He should have guessed that they would have boarded the ship, too. Allistor did not trust the Spaniard, that much was obvious.

He scowled and pointed to two of the burlier men on his crew. "You two," he said, beckoning for them to come closer. "Help Allistor with his load. Quickly."

The two followed Allistor back to the Captain's cabin and disappeared from sight. Antoni then looked at the members from Allistor's crew. "The rest of you lot best get your asses off of my ship." His voice was calm yet stern.

His ship was cleared of foreigners quickly, and his own crew was left doing their work. The Captain watched, standing in the center of it all, tall and proud. He was in control of this ship. His crew didn't hesitate to follow his every order. Allistor's own crew followed his commands. He held power. He had taken it as his own, he had conquered. He smiled vaguely as Allistor resurfaced with his bounty. He took it back to his ship and his two crew members returned. Then they left, their ship departed. He watched them go, a callous look appearing on his features. The Spaniard had to keep his eye on the Scot. If Augustus Vargas was looking to pay for his destruction, then the Captain had to slowly distance himself from the man until he was sure he would not be betrayed. Allistor held allegiance to no one. He was apart from everyone. He wasn't even sure if the man loved. God, what had Bella done to him?

Just as Antonio was about to go back into hiding, he heard a loud yell from above. He turned his head to gaze at the skies. His eyes were wide with surprise and confusion. Then he saw him. The younger Vargas, dangling from above, clinging to the riggings for dear life. Antonio still and did not move. He saw Bella start up the rigging to help him, but Antonio held up his ringed hand.

"No!" he yelled. "Nobody move. Nobody touch him. Nobody help him. He needs to learn to get down himself."

Bella stopped and stood still at Antonio's command. All except Lovino. He came running, jars of paint in his hands. He had brushes under his arms. Was he just now returning with the paint? He could have sworn he told the boy to get that started at least half an hour before. He turned to the boy slowly, his features lined with annoyance.

"I told you to go paint," the Captain said, stepping in Lovino's way of the riggings.

"Yeah, but your shit is a fucking mess down there. It took forever to find it. And it's not even good quality. Where the hell did you get this shit? Britain?"

"You're just incompetent."

"Says the one leaving Feli there! You're just going to let him dangle?"

"Sí, and you won't be helping him, either."

"Just fucking watch me."

Lovino set down the jars and stalked past Antonio. The Captain watched as he began to climb the riggings with ease. He showed little fear. Most boys his age who didn't have sea legs would have felt terrified. He was sure Feliciano felt that way. He had to be terrified. Lovino, on the other hand, grew up on the streets. He was at ease with climbing. He showed no fear. Antonio watched him with interest as he easily climbed the riggings and took hold of his dangling brother. He pulled him to safety with a powerful grace that intrigued Antonio. He always found himself getting more and more intrigued by the boy. He had natural sea legs just as the Captain did. He hadn't seen someone with such skill in a long while. He was impressed and interested. This feeling would only save the boy from severe punishment. He had disobeyed a direct order, and the Captain would not stand for such insubordination. When the two Italians reached the deck, the Captain approached with a look of callous disinterest and rage.

"You," he said, pointing to the younger one. "Brig. Now. Bella, take him." The woman nodded and led Feliciano down below. Antonio then turned to the older sibling. "You dare disobey my orders, boy? Are you trying to undermine my authority?"

"You were just going to let him hang there! He would have fallen!" Lovino yelled.

"He would have learned how to climb back up on his own! You deprived him of the chance," Antonio shot.

"I'd rather save him than risk having him fall!"

"You don't realize, boy, that you can't save everyone in this world! You've only bought him a little while longer, but the next time he had to go up the rigging, he may not be so lucky. Hell, I have half the mind to send him back up there right now."

"You wouldn't fucking dare!"

"And what can you do to stop me? You have no sword. You have no dagger. You're a pathetic boy who wants to look stronger by standing up to the Captain. But guess what? You're my prisoner. And until someone comes to retrieve your sorry ass, I'm sure you'll remain that way. I only that it happens soon, but who would want an albatross like you? Scared. Useless. Weak. Your grandfather must think you to be an utter disgrace. You ran away from home because you were too afraid to look at his expressions of disappointment," the Captain said. His voice was calm and collected. He knew just where to hit to make the boy lose his desire to fight. He knew how to make him break. "You always knew your brother was better than you. You're a weak, pathetic excuse for a man and to your family. I wouldn't be surprised if he leaves you her to die and takes only your brother. I wouldn't' be surprised to learn that he doesn't love you."

"That's a lie. You're just a cold hearted drunk who finds joy in tearing down the defenseless," Lovino replied, his voice soft and steady. His head hung so that his hair covered his eyes. "Besides. Grandpa would never do that to me."

"Yes, boy, he would." With a sense of finality, Antonio turned on his heel to go back to his cabin. He spotted Bella coming back from below deck and took hold of her arm as she passed. He quickly jerked his head towards the boy. "Take him below, then meet me in my cabin. I need to blow off some steam... Everyone else! Back to work!"

Antonio walked a few paces and then he heard more yells. He sighed heavily and kept walking. Whatever it was, Bella could deal with it.

"Bad form!"

"Capitaine!"

"Behind you! The brat is coming!"

Antonio heard the scurrying of feet and the drawing of swords. Just a he was about to draw his own, he felt a sickening crack at the back of his skull. He felt a cool, thick liquid that was paint running down the collar of his shirt and down his skin. He turned back briefly and saw through the black spots in his vision a very surprised Italian. His face was pale and his eyes were wide. He hands were covered in the same red paint that covered Antonio now. Lovino had struck him. He had wasted expensive paint! With a swiftness that the boy did not seem to expect, the Captain backhanded him. He heard him cry out, but he did not care. He simply turned away and managed to remain steady although the world was spinning in splotchy darkness. He didn't know exactly what would happen or exactly how long he had until he lost consciousness. All the spinning... All the blackness... He knew he would. He didn't stand a chance. He had to get back to his cabin. He could not appear weak in front of his crew.

He gave one final order before stepping into the hall that would lead him to his cabin. "Do with him as you will, but God so help you if he dies..."

The Captain lurched forward and the door slammed behind him. His movements were sluggish. He stumbled down the hall, leaning against the walls to keep himself upright. His cabin was so close, within inches of his fingertips. He opened the double doors and staggered inside. He slammed them closed behinds him. As he reached the center of the room, the darkness took over.

Lovino

He didn't know what had come over him. One moment he was accepting the defeat he felt after the Captain's harsh words, and then he was lifting the jar of paint. He remembered the sickening noise of it cracking open against the Captain's skull. When the red paint came into view, he felt an illness wash over him. It was something he liked to think of as existential dread. He had immediately paled over, and his eyes widened. He caught the Captain's expressionless gaze before he felt the back of his ringed hand connect with his cheek. He supposed he deserved that. He had attacked the man. He hadn't meant to, but he was just so angry. His emotions had gotten the best of him. They always did.

The Captain walked away and just before he disappeared from sight, he gave one final order to his devote crew, an order that sent waves of fear and dread through him.

"Do with him as you will, but God so help you if he dies..." the Captain spoke. And then he was gone.

Lovino was grabbed immediately following the Captain's disappearance. He didn't have a moment to assess what was going on. They merely dragged him across the deck. He didn't fight them. He allowed them to pull him to and fro. He was too stunned and surprised to do anything else. Somewhere in the chaos, his shirt disappeared. The crew shouted and jeered at him. They called him disturbing names, but he said nothing. He reacted in no way. For once in his life, he was holding his tongue. They wound a rope around his left wrist and pulled him to his knees in front of the mizzen mast, his chest flush with the wood. His other wrist was tied to a length of rope, and his body was pulled until he hugged the mast. He had no idea what they were doing. He was too numb to think the situation through. He knelt before the mast, his forehead pressed against the wood. Maybe they'd leave him there to burn under the blazing sun. But that was wishful thinking. These men were pirates. They wouldn't be so kind as to allow that. He knew as much. The Captain said to have their way with him. He was sure they would do just that. If it meant torturing him... Lovino did not want to think of that. He waited as the moments passed by. Something was coming, but he couldn't figure out-

He heard the noise of plaited leather striking skin before he actually felt it. When he did, however, Lovino cried out. His scream was only met with laughter.

"Count," a voice ordered.

"One," Lovino said through gritted teeth. He had set all humility aside.

The strikes kept coming. Two. Three. Four. He pulled at the ropes that kept him in place. Fix. Six. Seven. His back arched with pain with every blow, but the crew was relentless. Eight. Nine. Ten. Sweat poured down his brow and blood seeped down his back, but he did not plead for them to stop. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. They began passing the whip between the crew members. Everyone had to get their fun in. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Lovino was growing numb, but he managed to keep his head upright. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. His wrists were bleeding from pulling so roughly on the ropes. Twenty-one. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. His consciousness was wavering, but he held on; he could not give them any sort of satisfaction out of this. Twenty-four. Twenty-five. Twenty-six. He blinked back the swimming vision and tears that clouded his eyes. Twenty-seven. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. His arms were limp. He stopped pulling. He was so weak and delirious. Thirty. The darkness surrounded him, and Lovino greeted death as if it were an older friend.

A/N/: So that concludes the second chapter. What if I told you that was the end? Would you hate me? It's not, I'm a liar. I know. But. I'm on a roll if you think about it. But yeah.

So as far as characters go (because I should have done this last chapter)...

Bella: Belgium

Allistor: Scotland

Lars: Australia

Augustus Vargas: Rome

I don't think I have any other oddballs. I'll keep adding them as I go.