A/N: Okay... chapter 3! Yay! So, I kind of lied last chapter. I said that Arthur would be making his appearence in this chapter ... but he doesn't (aside from being mentioned) ... This Chapter covers Alfred's POV of when the Pirates attacked the Village and stole Matthew away and stuff. In this chapter you discover just how much Alfred cares for Matthew... I'm just writing this as it comes to me... and although I can promise you that it will most definitely have some UKCan in it, I can't promise it will end with UKCan. Either way though, I have a feeling there is going to be a bit of tragedy near the end of this story. I know that this maybe doesn't seem too much like a typical fanfic, and I intend to keep it that way, honestly. Even so, I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! Swashbuckling adventures with some romance are always fun!

I just want to say thank you for all the faves and reviews so far too! You guys are awesome! Thank you again!

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination!

Chapter 3.

When the attack was sprung upon the soldiers who were standing guard on the beach, the sounds had immediately roused Alfred, who had fallen asleep on one of his work benches after a particular busy day of work. He was quick to grab his musket and ammunition, as well as the sword that he'd been working on for Matthew. He had been under the assumption that he would run into his friend during the fight. The night before, after Matthew came to him with the news, Alfred stayed up to finish of the weapon he'd said he'd started for him. He wanted to get it to Matthew before anything happened, but unfortunately he was a bit too late. Alfred was nowhere near his workshop when it had caught fire, having managed to make his way further into the village and joined the British and French soldiers that were fighting there. Only when he'd heard the loud explosion coming from his workshop was it that he'd discovered that it had been burned down and, more importantly, where Matthew had been. As he ran up the dirt road, followed by a few soldiers, he could see his friend's body lying among the bodies of some pirates and the rubble of what was once his smithy. However, before the young Blacksmith could come to his friend's aid, another group of pirate's appeared. Rushing forward, Alfred tried to stop a rather large, heavily tattooed pirate as he picked up the limp form of his best friend. Unfortunately, the other pirates fell upon him before he could reach the man and Matthew. Outnumbered, six to one, Alfred fought like a mad man, but his skill was not with swords. If the pirates had been unarmed, or kept at a distance, he would have been successful. He did however manage to finish two of the ruffians before one winded him with a strong blow to the stomach with a piece of iron piping that came from the mess that was once his workshop. He collapsed to his knees as he watched the remaining pirates begin to retreat. The big one that carried Matthew off was already far ahead of the rest. Francis had just arrived upon the scene as Alfred fell. He was quick to kneel at Alfred's side, asking him what had happened. Panic and rage seemed to burst forth from the younger man as he pointed in the direction that the pirates were retreating, and then struck the ground with his fist

"Matthew! They took Matt! I couldn't get to him in time! He… I think he was injured! We have to go after them!"

He looked at Francis pleading as the French Admiral sprung to his feet. Francis normally didn't take kindly to attitude from the lower class, but he knew that Alfred was right, and immediately turned to the soldiers.

"You 'eard 'im! After them now, men! Get back my dear sweet Mathieu, or I'll have your 'eads!"

The French soldiers saluted smartly, and proceed forward, in pursuit of the pirates. The few British soldiers who had come upon the scene milled about for a moment, until one of their own captains came forward and told them to go and try and slow the pirates down. If they could keep them distracted, the other soldiers could regroup, and make for the pirate's ship to arrest the marauders and their bloodthirsty captain. Alfred cursed to himself as he picked up the sword he'd made for Matthew. Hoisting himself to his feet, he made to move forward to join in the chase, but Francis was quick to stop him.

"Let me go! I need to go help Matt!" Alfred shouted angrily as he struggled against Francis and a British soldier who came to aid the French Noble in restraining the fiery young man.

"You will stay with us, Alfred! You will be of more use to us 'ere. They will get Mathieu back. 'E will be safe with us soon! Oh, but 'e will get an earful for abandoning 'is post! 'E seems quiet and sweet, but that boy is as stubborn and bull 'eaded as they come! I blame 'is English father for that!"

At the comment, one of the English soldiers made a disgruntled sound but was silenced by his captain. All around the village and the beach, the pirates disappeared as quickly as they had come. Francis, Alfred and their group, made their way back to the manor. All the while, Alfred was kept under tabs. Francis did not want him running off just yet. As they discussed the next plan of action, a messenger came running up the road. Out of breath, he took a moment before he relayed his message. During that time the wind seemed to have picked up again.

"Begging your pardons, sirs… but we could not catch up with the pirates. As we reached the shores, there were a great number of them waiting there. Young Master Williams was already taken aboard a row boat and on his way to the ship. We couldn't stop them! We haven't the numbers! You'll have to let them take the boy!"

Francis was surprisingly calm considering the news, but perhaps it was that once he'd heard that they had captured Matthew, he knew they would do something like this. Alfred, on the other hand, was absolutely livid. Mustering all his strength (and he had a lot of it), he managed to wrestle free and escape from those who held him there. Without even looking back, he rushed down the road, running at full speed.

"If you idiots won't even try to get him back, I will!"

As Alfred disappeared from sight, one of the soldiers looked to Francis as if seeking guidance.

"Sir, shall we go after him?"

"Non … let 'im go …" lips pursed, the French Lord turned to the British Captain, " I think I know what Kirkland is playing at now. 'E will use my nephew as bartering material. 'E will ask for a ransom, I am sure of it."

"What will we do then?"

"We will do nothing, for now. We cannot do anything. Mathieu will be fine. I 'ave faith that 'e will survive through this. We must regroup and gather our numbers. Captain, tell your Commander that this one time, we will join forces with your people to bring down these pirates. We just need time. I am sure there are injured villagers and soldiers that will need to be attended to. Tell your Commander to come see me as soon as possible. Go now!"

With that, Francis turned from the group with a flourish and made his way inside his manor, followed by a few of his closest men. Although he was doing a fairly good job of remaining calm and cool on the outside, inside the Frenchman was worrying and panicking. Ever since his nephew had come to him, he had been his world. Like a son that he'd never had, but he knew that this situation had to be approached cautiously, with much thought and strategy. He was not a Navy Admiral for nothing, after all.

As Alfred reached the shore, he noticed that it was completely void of life. The only people left there were already dead. Having lost his own musket in the heat of battle, he picked one up from one of the corpses as he tucked Matthew's sword into his belt. A small fishing boat lay nearby having remained unscathed. Without any other thought in his head but that of getting Matthew back, the young blacksmith pushed the boat into the water and started to row towards the dark silhouette of the pirate ship. The harder he rowed and the further he got from shore, the further the ship itself seemed to get. In his stubborn determination to get his friend back, it took sometime before Alfred realized that it was useless. The winds had caught in the ship's sails, and were spiriting it away faster than he could even try to catch up. As the ship sailed away, disappearing over the horizon, the sun began to rise. The dark clouds in the sky began to turn to red and gold, as the waves crashed against the hull of Alfred's small boat. He cursed again, and then looked down at the sword tucked away in his belt. Feeling as if he'd failed Matthew, he openly wept in frustration. Was Matthew even still alive? When he saw him laying in the rubble, he hadn't moved. When that big, ugly pirate picked him up, he looked as if he were completely lifeless. Alfred cursed once more, and slowly began to row back to shore. Despite feeling over come with a sense of emptiness, Alfred refused to believe that Matthew was dead, and as such, he swore to himself that he would bring him back, one way or another. Even if he had to leave the tiny inlet village, and go with the British soldiers in their pursuit of this so called Dread Captain Kirkland. The Blacksmith's eyes narrowed at the very thought of his name. It was all his fault that his dearest friend… the only person Alfred truly loved, was gone. That pirate and the rest of his crew would pay dearly for even laying a single finger on Matthew. Once Alfred reached the shore, he swore an oath to himself, and to Matthew, that he would rescue him. Renewed with a sense of Determination, Alfred F. Jones made his way back to the village in search of the British Commander to offer his services. After all, who wouldn't want a skilled blacksmith and a man willing to fight with his life aboard their ship? He would not let Francis or anyone stop him either.

To be Continued …

A/N: I hope you guys liked this chapter! ^_^ ... I will try to write more as soon as I can! ... Oh, and just so you know. Francis isn't being a jerk. He's just trying to be smart about things ... because he realizes now that he kind of messed up big time, having not taken the warnings seriously at first!