Ok, so this took almost two weeks to write. Mostly because I'm not that good at writing lemon scenes. anyway, I'm really sorry to those who said they wanted a swordfight, I was already in this part so much I couldn't bear to erase it but maybe to make it up to all I'll write a mysterious island kind of thing. Well, after the next few chapters, I wanna go into some backstories with Canada and America and I want to introduce more if the crew member like Yao and Kiku then go deeper with Ivan and Ludwig. That's my gameplan anyway, it's whethr or not I'll stick to it, a swordfight will ensue eventually though. I can't write a pirate story and not have a swordfight, so don't lose hope, ok! They're just really hard to write: easy to see, hard to write.
I own nothing...
I sat dozing somewhat comfortably when Ludwig lumbered over to my cell, keys in hand.
"Du, mit mir zu kommen. The captain vants to see you" Ludwig slurred his words to almost a German-type gibberish. What? Just when I start getting kinda comfy, really? I stood up with a moan. One can get very rigid when they sit on a wooden surface for four or five hours.
"What does he want?" I demanded. This spoiled captain had another thing coming if he was going to call me out for some ridiculous command. Ludwig unlocked my cell and opened the door. He gruffly took hold of my arm. A few scenarios played through my mind as he practically hauled me out to the deck; none of them had very good endings.
Arriving on the deck I saw how everyone was struggling to keep still, I didn't want to know what would happen if they failed. I also saw Arthur smirk as he saw my arrival; it wasn't a dignified one.
"Hey, Terminator, lemme go 'kay? We can forget this happened if ya let me go back. The captain needn't know about this, ahh." I tried humoring Ludwig by doing my worst impression of that scumbag captain. I got a slap in the face by the man himself for insolence.
"There will be no tolerance of impudent little boys on this ship. Do you understand, ah?" Arthur countered. "And anyway I did not ask you here to torture you. You see, I'm a quite refined pirate. I do not like to draw the blood of those unarmed."
"I see. So, if you're not going to torture me, what are you going to do?" I posed the question carefully hoping he'd say I could go. What about Antonio? What will happen to him after I leave? If I leave, that is. Why do I care what happens to a total stranger?
"Well, I've called you here for a little game," Arthur smirked devilishly, his vivid green eyes ablaze. I didn't like the sound of that at all.
"Wh-what kind of game are we talking about, here?" I shuddered at what this evil man could think up, especially when he was drunk. I looked at my boots just to avoid his eyes.
"Well, I'll give you a few hints, but don't try to think too hard, alright? Little merchant sons like you are never too smart," Kirkland smirked like he was pretty clever, "it has to do with swords, and fighting with them, and skills, many fighting skills." What the hell? I'm supposed to fight him? No way! I could never do that! What kind of fun is this? At this I looked up, shocked at what his suggestion, or command, was implying.
"And you want me to fight you?" I was in utter disbelief. The only experience I had with sword fighting was what I saw from movies, and even though I watched a lot of Pirates of the Caribbean there was no way I could actually do any of that.
"I'm surprised, boy, you catch on quickly. Indeed I do want you to fight me and if you do you won't have to stay in that ratty old brig with that idiotic Spaniard—"
"Antonio's a good man! Don't you say anything against him like that!" I snapped at his remark, raising my voice, and struggling against my bonds. (This crew is too thick to think of untying me themselves…) What I didn't realize at the time when I said that was that I lost my only defense against the captain.
"I see, so that's what you think of that thief." Kirkland scoffed. "Do you really think he's as good a man as you say? Do you know him at all?" my lack of an answer was all he needed, "I can see you're not up to our little game then. Alfred, take Morgan back to his friend"
"Aye, captain." Alfred was an odd character he was the ships first mate, but there was something about him that just didn't make sense. Maybe it was that little tuft of hair on the front of his head that stuck up obnoxiously.
My mind couldn't work. Was what this pirate said about my friend really true? Why does he hate Antonio for stealing what he stole? Was it really that important? It was all in slow motion from there. I needed answers.
"Wait, Alfred, take him to my cabin instead, I should talk with him. He needs to know how this ship works if he's going to survive." I found myself being dragged into a fairly large room with little knick knacks, little bags of money lying around and what seemed to be items of magical use such as open books with strange symbols on the pages and a small pewter pot over what looked like a little burner. How does that burner run in the middle of the ocean? I'm pretty sure there's no electricity on this ship either. I looked around puzzled. Why am I in here? Captain Kirkland strode in past me and sat at the little desk by an open window.
"Here, sit down there's a small armchair behind you," he motioned to a large cushioned armchair that faced the balcony. "I always loved the smell of the sea, even when I was a little boy. I was around your age when I first set sail." Was this guy really trying to tell me some sort of sob story right now to make me feel sorry for him? That's not going to work on me. Ok, I'm not going to lie he looked kinda cute, when he wasn't being an asshole. I sat down hesitantly. I must have made some kind of face because when he looked up he chuckled to himself.
"I see my little story won't soften your heart towards me. How about I offer the little lady a drink then, hm?" he smiled kindly to me. Wait, what? Did he just call me a little lady? "I admit your disguise fooled me entirely up until your voice raise an entire octave when I mentioned that Spanish bastard" he got up from his spot and opened a little cabinet and poured two glasses of wine, his back was to me.
When he was finished pouring the glasses he smiled, "I never liked the French as a whole: they're smelly, dirty, and their women are hairy. It's like they don't know how to take care of themselves." He handed me one glass and kept the other for himself. "You've been quiet for some time, now. And here I thought you might like being seen as lady for once." He assumed casting a sideways glance at me.
"My mother taught me if you don't have anything good to say, then you shouldn't speak at all," I spoke out quietly, my voice failing in the confidence department. Of course, I had to bring an age old lesson taught by my mother when I was at least four years old.
"Ahh, of course, your mother is a wise woman for that, but what is it that you wish to say? You can't really hurt me with your words I've heard it all, so go ahead, speak your mind." Arthur smiled, almost genuinely. I stayed silent and sipped the wine. I've never had wine before so it burned as it went down its sour taste permeating throughout my mouth and throat. The alcohol in the wine warmed my chest and stomach. I put the wine down on the table set beside me. Arthur laughed a little, " I take it you've never had a drop of alcohol before in your life and back on deck if I had not found out your true identity I would have offered you some of my rum. I realize now that would have been a grave mistake." He laughed at my sour face.
"Well, when you have drunkards in your family you tend to stay away from it more than others." I grimaced at the burn still left in my chest. Suddenly I felt the room spin like the ship decided to pirouette across the waves. Arthur looked at me curiously and smirked again. "It's been a long time since I had the company of a woman," he slid his coat off and untied the blue sash from around his waist, "this toxin shouldn't incapacitate you completely but it should keep you from fighting back too much."
He picked me up and set me on the bed. "Now, since I've found out you've lied to me this entire time, I want some truth."
Hell. No. In no way would I tell you the truth now! I've read what pirates do to women and I will not stand for what you're doing to me.
"I'll tell you anything you want to know." I said. What? Why couldn't I stop myself? What did he give me? Why can't I tell him what I really want to say? Suck it, asshole!
"I'm going to ask you some questions about yourself and if I like what I hear then I might keep your little secret. Of course, I'm not sure why you would want to keep this to ourselves the more I look at you the more appealing you become. Who else have you told about our secret?" Arthur leaned in curiously; I saw an intent look on his face, as though it wasn't just answers he wanted.
"I-I haven't t-to-told a-a-an-anyone." Good, I still have a little control over myself.
Arthur took out a small dirk and rested the blade against my cheek, "I don't like that answer too much, Miss. Try again." He put a little more pressure on the blade.
"H-Hon-nes-sst, I haven't t-toold anyone." I tried to make it sound as convincing as possible as a tear rolled down my cheek; it wasn't going well, but Arthur seemed to believe it this time.
"Alright, next question, then. Where did you come from?" he leaned in a little.
"I c-come f-from Maryland." I said as truthfully as possible, for this was a truth.
"I've never heard of such a place. Where is this Mary-land?" I forgot I'm not in my century. For all I know Maryland hasn't even been settled yet. Crap.
"It's a state in America, on the east coast." My vision began to blur just a bit from the drug.
"Hm, I see. I don't like that answer very much either, and I'll tell you why: America is a British territory, there's no states there." Arthur simpered, dragging the blade down the left side of my face. I winced a bit but I wouldn't give this sadist the satisfaction of hearing me cry out.
"Bastard," I whispered faintly, "you damn bastard." feeling a tear of blood trickle down to the bottom of my jaw. Arthur pushed on my chest to make me stretch out on the bed. My body and mind couldn't work together to keep me up: I couldn't fight back. Suddenly everything swirled into a black mass in front of my vision and the last thing I was conscience of was Captain Kirkland making his way from my neck to uncharted territory and the words:
"I will own you"…