Chapter 3

Warmth. Soft, comforting, embracing warmth.

A stark contrast to the cold, hard, splintered floor boards of the cramp cargo hold Alfred had been hiding in. He almost wondered if he had died and this was heaven.

"Alfred, Alllfred"

Alfred snuggled deeper into the blankets and pillows, trying desperately to grasp at the last remnants of sleep.

"Alfred, wake up!"

Alfred groaned in protest as his heavenly warm blankets were cruelly stripped away.

"I let you sleep in, but any longer and you'll miss breakfast."

Alfred sat up and glared at the green eyed blonde, wondering who the hell he was and why he was disturbing him..

Then he saw his eyebrows and last nights events rushed back to him.

Again Alfred groaned as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 'Damn pirates…'

"Sleep well?" the captain asked while tossing the blankets to the side. Alfred felt a strong temptation to snatch them back and go back to sleep, but was too tired for the effort.

"Wh't hour is it?" he asked, words coming out slurred.

"Quarter pass nine." He replied after flipping open his golden pocket watch. Its craftsmanship was elegant and definitely that of high class, meaning it was undoubtedly stolen. "I suggest you get going, I wasn't joking when I said you were to be my new apprentice." he added.

"Wha-, what?" Alfred found him self asking, now fully awake.

"That's what told them, and this way you can stay closer to me for now with out question. You will basically follow under my direct orders and assist me in what ever I need done. This also means that, starting today, you will learn to fight, because I will not baby-sit you in a battle." Arthur's voice seemed to take on the same strictness it had last night when he spoke to the crew. Alfred could only nod.

"Right then, here's a change of clothes, once you're ready meet me on the main deck." Arthur ordered as he tossed him the clothes. Alfred caught them and looked them over. An off-white shirt, brown trousers, a belt, and a brown vest. There was also a red scarf for some reason.

"What's this for?" he asked as he held it up to the other.

"To protect you scalp from the sun," he replied as he walk to the door, grabbing his own hat on the way. "and you got 10 minutes!" he called back as he left.

With a sigh, Alfred changed into his new clothes, honestly happy to be out of his former set. Seeing as he's been stuck in them for weeks.

Once changed Al looked about until he found his pack, which had moved from the spot he dropped on the floor last night, to on top of the night stand. Frowning, he quickly looked through it making sure every thing was in place. It seemed like nothing had been touched, but Alfred had his doubts.

…

Should he have doubts? Alfred bit his lip.

Back home in Maryland, Master Williams would tell Alfred and his brother Matthew stories of his days in the Royal Navy, and the monstrous villains that prayed upon the ocean blue. Brilliant tales of near capture and death, all warnings of how terrible and inhuman pirates were. And those stories never rung truer after last nights sadistic greed driven crew.

But, then there was Arthur. A pirate Captain who didn't just help him, he saved his life, even at the cost of his own money, and this was a pirate!

And not to mention, what if Arthur and his crew hadn't attacked that ship? Would he of starved to death in that hold? Or would he of been caught and thrown over board?

To be honest, Alfred didn't think he would of made it to London.

Putting down his pack, Alfred turned around.

After every thing that happened last night, if Arthur was right about one thing, it was this;

If Alfred wanted to make it home, or, hell, even London, if Alfred wanted to survive, he was going to need Arthur to do it.

Walking across the room, Alfred grasped the door handle.

He may be a thief, a pirate, even a murderer, but above all, Arthur was his best chance out, and Alfred was taking it.

The scene Alfred walked into when he stepped out onto the deck was almost impossible to describe.

There were crewmen scattered about the ship, cradling half empty bottles in there sleep. Some were curled in on themselves mumbling nonsense. One man had been tied upside down to the main mast and was stripped of all clothing. And above all, there was the overwhelming stench of alcohol.

Alfred barley moved a step before he was shoved to the side as an man made a mad dash for the ships rail to empty his stomach.

Scrunching his nose in disgust Al looked away and instead searched for the captain. He needn't look far as an orange suddenly appeared in front of his nose which was held by a hand that lead to a smirking Arthur.

"Ah, thanks" Alfred accepted as he took the fruit from the other. He also notice in his other hand was a plate with some biscuits and a few sausages, which he took one of as well.

"So, uh, is this a common occurrence?" Al couldn't help but ask as he started pealing off the oranges skin.

"Only after a prize as big as that one, I'm still surprised you slept through it all." He answered. He then sat down on a spare barrel as he watched in a amusement as the man tied to the mast came to.

"So do you not drink then?" Al asked before sitting next to him and taking a bite of the sausage.

"Well, yes, but not at sea, to risky."

"Hwise at?" Alfred asked with a mouth full of biscuit and sausage.

Arthur scrunched his nose, "Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting, and stop eating all the scones!" Arthur snapped before snatching the last remaining biscuit/scone for himself.

Alfred frowned, that's disgusting? Did he not see his surroundings?

"Anyway" Arthur continued after finishing his scone. "lets get started on familiarizing you with the ship!"

As the crew were still dragging themselves out of their hangovers, Arthur had given Alfred a tour of the ship, pointing out each detail with perfect expertise.

He told him how The Britannia Angel was not only the fastest ship he will ever see but also since it's a brig*, it could easily sail into waters as shallow as 8 feet. It held 16 cannons and could hold up to 75 men, although there was only 39 on board now. The back of the ship was called the stern and the front was the bow. There was two mast, first was the foremast, then the mainmast. There were also three decks, the forecastle deck in front and was above the crew's quarters, the main deck was in the middle was above the cargo hold, and the poop deck was in back and was above the captains quarters. That last one was also were the helm, or wheel, was. And then there was the all the sails and riggings!

By this point Alfred had gone cross-eyed.

"So, need I repeat any thing?" Arthur asked at the end, leaning agents the wheel, smiling proudly at himself.

"No, I-I think I got it." Alfred replied as he rubbed his now aching head. How could he recite all that without a single stutter?

"Oi! Captain! Th' men are ready tu go!" Mark called up from the main deck, surprising Alfred.

"Already?" Arthur murmured as he checked his watch, finding it was five until eleven.

Arthur gave a small frown before turning it into a scowl as he faced the crew.

"On your feet men! You had your fun last night, but now it's back to work! I want to be in the Caribbean by night fall, you understand?"

Alfred watched as the Captain gave out orders left and right, to lower the sails more, tighten those ropes, and for the love of god, please untie that poor man from the mast!

Each and every crew men fallowed suit, not one dared disobey.

By now Mark had joined them on the poop deck, which left Alfred a little more then nervous. And seeing as Mark was a rather towering and grimy individual who had tried to have Alfred killed, you can't really blame him.

"Don' go trustin the Capain tu much, it'll get ye killed"

Alfred looked up at him skeptically, he wasn't looking at Alfred though, he instead was watching-, no, glaring at Arthur's back.

"Why should I believe you?" Alfred asked, because seriously, why should he? Arthur has been nothing but kind to him and here this guy had tried to kill him.

"Th' Captain 'as always 'ad a history of backstabbing any one 'e works with, a nasty habit of taking whot 'e wants and leaving when it's most convenient." It's then that the man looks down at him, his eerie sea foam eyes seemed to see straight through Alfred. But he held his ground.

"And why should I believe you?" He asked again.

"Just warning ye." he ended as he walked off and back down to the main deck.

Alfred frowned, if he didn't trust anyone it was him.

"Don't just stand there, make your self useful!" Arthur snapped as he threw something to Alfred's feet, "No one slacks off on my watch!" he flashed a rather smug grin before turning back to the crew to yell at them some more.

Alfred then looked down to see what he had thrown,

A mop and bucket.

'Damn pirates'

Brig- a type of ship that was commonly used by pirates in the early 1700's