Kitty: Okay, chapter four! XD … This story should be done by now! WHAT HAVE I DONE? I'm not going to be updating any of my other stories before the hiatus is over! Oh noes! I have OTHER fandoms to write for! Hetalia- no, Spamano! YOU EAT MY LIFE! I haven't even read the updates from MY favorite authors!
Ghostheart, SpiritMusician, AisuArisu, Anone9, Red eyes black phoenix, Mihakuu, Anamique4, Ichigo-the-Deathberry, TheFreakyTomboy: Thank you for your assortment of fave and alerts. Yup, that's right. I SEE YOU! *A*
Disclaimer: Hetalia =/= mine. Too bad.
The Greatest Treasure, You Idiot
Chapter Four
Faith
Lovino listened to the heartbeat beneath his ear, the gentle intake and exhale of breath. He opened his eyes slowly, golden irises glowing in the darkness of the cabin. Slim fingers trailed over the lines of muscle, up the dip of stomach, smoothing over the gentle bumps of rib, over flat chest, down the curve of arm. He loved Antonio's warmth, the rough scrape of hair that grew in a thin line from his belly button to low, low on his abdomen, how smooth his skin was, how coarse his hands were. He loved to hear Antonio breathe.
It had to be Antonio.
And knowing that was terrifying. There was so much… so much resting on Antonio's shoulders, something so simple as a single choice, and the idiot didn't even know!
Lovino rose, leaning on one hand as he gazed down on Antonio's sleeping face. He sighed, his eyebrows furrowing over his nose, torn between amusement and disdain. The Spaniard's mouth was wide open, spittle slipping from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, a dopey grin tugging up the corners of his lips. Lovino finally caved, chuckling quietly, his shoulders high and tense and shaking, his brows still creased as if he were in some sort of pain even as he laughed.
These past weeks, almost two months now, (or was it more than that?) had been amazing, beautiful even. Every day Antonio had shown Lovino something new and exciting. Up in the crow's nest at dawn one day, sipping hot Turkish coffee; or watching the sunset the next; or, Lovino's favorite, in the middle of the night, the lantern making Antonio's eyes gleam like dark emeralds, as they stared up into the stars and Antonio taught him the constellations (like Lovino didn't already know). When they had their feet on the deck, Antonio showed him how to steer the ship, how the rudder and the tiller worked, how to tie knots and call commands out to the crew. Lovino had been surprised when the crew actually listened to Lovino's awkwardly hesitant shouts. He taught Lovino how to cook Spanish dishes- Lovino's favorite was paella- and how to read the maps and globe on his desk. In the privacy of Antonio's cabin, Antonio would sing for Lovino, instead of the other way around, and they would dance to Antonio's soft tenor serenading to Lovino with silly Spanish love songs.
It had to be Antonio.
But how could Lovino tell him that? How could Lovino point Antonio to the right choice? To show him that something wonderful and amazing could happen if only Antonio were different from everyone else? Lovino sighed again. He reached out, fingers trembling, to trace the arch of Antonio's cheekbone, the strong line of his jaw.
I love you, Lovino thought desperately, his mouth twisting into a painful scowl. Please, make the right choice tomorrow, amore mio.
Antonio frowned, the gentle caress of Lovino's fingertips breaking through the fog of sleep. He swatted at his hand, chuckling deep in his throat as his eyes sluggishly opened.
"Tha' tickles," Antonio mumbled, blinking up at Lovino, who still hovered over him. He frowned again. Lazily he reached up and captured Lovino's face in his hands, the silky warmth of golden scales and olive skin on his palms. "What's wrong, mi corazon?"
Lovino shook his head. "It's nothing. Just go back to sleep."
"I don' wanna," Antonio pouted, pulling down, forcing Lovino nearer. Lovino gasped, eyes widening, startled. "You woke me up. I can't fall asleep and not have a kiss to send me back to sleep."
"You stupid-! I… My breath- your breath fucking stinks! I bet you taste terrible, too! You're gross!" Lovino protested, trying to wriggle away unsuccessfully. Antonio let out a laugh.
"Kiss me first and then you can tell me if I do," Antonio suggested, nuzzling Lovino's neck.
"I hate you so much! Just go back to sleep, damn it!"
"Mmm, no," Antonio replied, now kissing his way up Lovino's throat to his jawline.
"Wh-What the hell are you doing? You need to get up in a few hours! We're going to be at that damned island and-" Antonio pulled Lovino's mouth down over his, effectively cutting him off. A long, spine-tingling moment later, they parted, both panting. Lovino glared, but settled himself over Antonio more comfortably, hands braced on his wide chest. "You taste disgusting."
"Of course," Antonio laughed, tugging him down for another kiss. It didn't end there. For some reason, Antonio didn't mind missing a few more hours of sleep if it meant a few more hours making love to Lovino.
Not that Lovino minded too much. In the back of his mind, he knew tomorrow could end it all. So he let himself fall under Antonio's spell once more… perhaps one last time. And he loved Antonio back earnestly, reacting and taking more than he ever had before, desperately hoping that each lingering caress was as meaningful and as memorable to Antonio as they were to him.
.
Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio stood at the starboard rail, staring at the surging and crashing waves not too far from them. The ship was rocking perilously, the salt spray stinging their faces and hands. Behind them, Lovino stood perfectly balanced on the swaying deck, arms crossed and face scowling. He knew exactly what was going on in their minds.
How in the world is that possible?
Huge, dark, soaking wet fingers of rock were churning the sea creating the wild waves as they spun around a tiny daub of rock where the treasure lay. Getting any closer could force their ship into the maelstrom, dash the little galleon against the logic-defying rocks, and plunge them all into the watery depths below. They were all silently wondering just how they could get past this magical obstacle before them.
"Lovino, what is that!" Gilbert snapped, spinning around and pointing at the whirlpool. Lovino shrugged.
"The first test, of course. I'm not just going to fucking hand the treasure over. You wanted a damn journey. Here you go," Lovino retorted, rolling his eyes.
"How are we supposed to get past that?" Francis demanded, gripping the rail until his knuckles turned white. Behind the four, the rest of the crew were muttering under their breath, many of them white-faced or praying on rosaries.
"That's not my problem, manslut," Lovino snapped.
"There's some space between each rock. We could row a longboat through if we choose the strongest men to row…" Antonio mumbled, brows lowered over his nose as he stared at the circling rocks.
Gilbert scoffed. "Yeah, right! They're moving way too fast for rowers. Damn it!" He slammed his fist on the rail, snarling. "If we hadn't left Lutz behind, he would've come up with something. He's a genius at this kind of stuff!"
"We'll have to think of something without him, mon ami," Francis said, sighing. "I'm sure if we think hard enough, we'll figure it out. Let's ask the men for ideas-"
Francis broke off, blinking, as Antonio pushed away and strode over the deck to the stairs. He leapt up the steps to the quarterdeck, hastening to the helm and grabbing his helmsman's bandana when he got there. The brightly checkered cloth streamed in wind, held aloft in his fist. Green eyes studied the direction, then glanced back to the island, before a wide grin spread over his face.
"Rico, take the ship around the island. We'll come through the south end of the island. The wind is northerly. Once we've come about the island, douse the sails and let the waves bring us in. The men must stay on the yards. MOVE IT!" Antonio bellowed.
"What are you thinking? We'll be smashed against those rocks, Tony!" Gilbert shouted, running up the steps, Francis right behind him. Lovino merely stepped to the railing, away from the surge of action on the deck, and gazed towards the island.
"I have a plan," Antonio replied cheerily, slapping the bandana back on Rico's sweaty head.
"I don't see how steering ourselves straight into certain death is a plan, mon ami," Francis retorted, sweat beading his brow and temples. Antonio patted his back, laughing.
"I have it completely under control. You'll see. I SAID EVERY SAIL, MEN! GET THEM READY!" Francis winced as Antonio hollered right next to his ear.
Gilbert was already grinning, the thrill of near-death rising in his blood. "All right, Tony. Let me in on this."
It hadn't taken long to bring the ship around. In front of them, the rocks were roaring as they spun. Less than a minute of space was between each spur, and now the Buscador was barreling towards the surging whirlpool, wood creaking and lines snapping in the wind. At least a half dozen men were sitting precariously up on the yardarms, holding tight to the rigging, muscles tense and shaking as the rolled sails were caught in the wind and began to tug and pull. As they neared the island, the wind got stronger, almost throwing men off their feet, and the dangerously perched men above almost toppled to their deaths.
"This won't work, Antonio! The sails will never be secured in time!" Francis shouted over the wind, his voice almost ripped from him.
Antonio held down his hat (he'd stolen it back from Gilbert), and grinned wildly. "Have a little faith, mi amigo!" Antonio called back. He glanced to where Gilbert sat on the main mast's yard, standing upright, gripping the mast and rigging, gazing towards the rocks ahead. "Gil will get it right."
"You're insane!" Lovino yelled, grasping Antonio's arm. He had come up as they rounded the island, his golden eyes wide with fear and shock. "What the hell are you thinking?" Antonio leaned over, placing his lips near Lovino's ear.
"Making the journey worth it," Antonio murmured. Lovino gaped at him, before punching him in the ribs.
"Lucky for you I can't die in the ocean. Or else I'd fucking kill you for this!"
Antonio only laughed, clutching his side in pain, as the ship lurched forward with the powerful surge of tide. Gilbert raised his hand as the boat swung from side to side, constantly buffeted on both sides by the wild waves that swelled over the deck, flooding the ship up to everyone's knees, before rushing over the other side, then having it happen again only moments later. Even the men on the yardarms were soaked to the skin, the continuous spray of water making everything slick and even more dangerous.
"NOW!" Gilbert's voice screamed through the wind, his arm coming down with a sharp chopping motion.
The sails dropped and men grasped the lines, slipping and sliding, but managing to keep their balance at they tied the rigging to the booms. The sails billowed, so full with the raging wind the seams stretched and the weave began to pull apart. The Buscador dove forward as a rock passed in front of the very bowsprit of the ship. Men fell forward, many crying out as knees hit the wooden boards and others slid down the deck towards the prow. Cannons rocked, ropes straining and many slipping free, wheels squealing as they rolled over the slick wood. Antonio wrapped his arm around Lovino's waist, holding him tightly, even though the siren probably had better balance than he did. Everyone looked to the starboard side, breath caught in every throat. The ship skidded over the turbulent waves, but the next rock was coming at them with startling speed. Lovino gasped and buried his face in Antonio's wet shirt, fists curled in the soaked crimson camlet of Antonio's long coat.
Just barely, the Buscador surged past. The rock spur knocked against the very back of the stern, the loud, horrific sound of stone on wood, of ripping and scraping, as the ship wobbled and weaved. Antonio and Gilbert shouts rose together over the screaming of the wind and surf and the men hurriedly pulled with all their might. Finally, the mainsails were doused and secured to the yardarms, slowing the momentum of the ship as they neared the pebbly shore of the island. Antonio pushed Lovino away, kissed his temple absently, and then raced down the stairs, shouting orders and throwing his weight in with his men as they secured the remaining, smaller sails and the rigging that still waved and snapped in the wind dangerously. The anchor was dropped with a loud crash, the chain and rope rattling over the side of the deck until the anchor caught. Gilbert swung down on a loose line as soon as the sails were secured and helped retie the heavy cannons in place.
Lovino stumbled down to the quarterdeck, legs shaking. Immediately, a strong hand clasped his elbow and steadied him. He glanced up into dancing blue eyes set in a still rather pale face.
"Lost your balance, sirène?" Francis teased. Lovino jerked his arm away, scowling.
"Don't fucking touch me, manslut," Lovino mumbled. Francis laughed and bowed elegantly.
"Of course. You're not mine to touch, non? That is my dear friend's privilege. Not that I envy him. You'll break his heart in the end," Francis rejoined, his smile rather sharp as he spoke. Lovino gaped open-mouthed at him as Francis's eyes became serious. "Don't hurt him too badly, sirène." He bowed again and strolled towards the door that would lead him to the galley.
Lovino snarled at his back, then glanced towards the fast-approaching island, his arms crossing over his chest again. Break his heart? Unlikely. The only one being in danger of that is me… and so much more… so much more will be broken… He sighed, his shoulders slumping as if weighted with an invisible burden.
The keel scraped along the pebbly bottom as they entered the shoal and men, including Gilbert, swung over the prow and sides of the ship, lines in hand, to stake the ship in place on the beach. Antonio paced over the decks, double-checking everything and telling his crew to go below and change into dry clothes, clapping them on the shoulder and grinning at them, confident and at ease now that they were beached safely. He called over the boatswain and on-board carpenter to see about the damage and repairs needed. As he waited for his men to come over, his eye caught the motionless, dejected figure of Lovino and he frowned. What is wrong with Lovino? Antonio wondered, anxiety filling him like the life-threatening, island-circling rockspurs had not done. He remembered, then, the hazy features of Lovino hovering over him when he woke, those golden eyes sad and dark and… hiding something. Lovino was hiding something and Antonio had no idea what. Is he… he's not going to betray- Antonio shook his head briskly. He couldn't believe that. He couldn't even finish the thought without something sick twisting in his innards like a snake. No, it was something else entirely.
He was distracted from his thoughts as the boatswain and carpenter came level with him, both with worried frowns on their faces.
.
The island could barely even be considered that. It was a small jut of rock encircled by a pebbly beach. There weren't trees or birds, not even debris from the ocean, like kelp, lay on the smooth, round, black pebbles that made up the shore. Ahead there was a dark opening in the pile of rock, which seemed to be the only destination.
Within the hour, Antonio and a small group of men were on the beach. He had left instructions with the rest of the crew to repair what damage they could to the stern. Luckily, the hull and keel remained intact and undamaged. The windows were lost, though. The group on land included four seamen, Francis, Gilbert, and Lovino. Even though Francis was "only the cook," he was Antonio's oldest friend, and, along with Gilbert, a man he trusted to watch his back. Lovino led the way up the beach, the strange lost look he wore earlier gone, replaced with his usual sneer. He ducked into the cave's mouth, waiting a few feet inside for the group to follow him. With a snap of his fingers, a golden ball of light appeared. A low humming sound, a hum that sounded like Lovino's voice, twined through the low, wide cavern. Before Lovino was an opening to a narrow path carved deeper into the rock. The walls were damp and uneven, untouched by man's tools, and a slow drip sounded in the depths, echoing weirdly. The bright light hovering over Lovino's hand cast strange shadows on the rough walls and over everyone's uncomfortable-looking faces. The siren turned to Antonio when everyone was ensconced inside, a dark scowl on his golden-hued face.
"Once inside I can only do so much. This is your quest, Antonio. However, there is one thing I can tell you," here Lovino paused, his eyes meeting each man's directly until he returned his gaze to Antonio's. There, for a fleeting moment, that odd look that Antonio had seen in the dark hours before dawn. Lovino's gaze skittered away. "You must trust me. If I tell you to do something, you must do it. If I turn down a corridor, you must follow, no matter what you see. If I tell you to drop your weapons, you must drop them. If you hesitate for even a moment, if you doubt even the smallest amount that I'm leading you truly, then it will spell your doom. Can you trust me?" Lovino demanded.
A few men squirmed, their gaze going to Antonio. His face, though, was inscrutable. He really had no idea what to think about Lovino's words, and he refused to sway his men's opinions with his own. Finally, Gilbert stepped forward, clearing his throat.
"I don't know if I can trust you, Lovino, but Antonio… Antonio's our captain. If he trusts you, then I will. I've trusted Antonio with my life a thousand times and, hell, I'm still here aren't I?" Gilbert grinned crookedly over at Antonio. "Lovino's right. This is your quest and I follow you."
"Aye," muttered one man. The remaining three quickly repeated it, their voices gaining volume and confidence, making Antonio smile as well.
"That means a lot to me, Gil, Alvaro, Natal, Manuel, Chale," Antonio said, addressing each man individually with a smile. "And you, Francis?" Antonio inquired, turning to the Frenchman trying to hide the sudden shine in his eyes. Francis shrugged nonchalantly, that lazy, mysterious smile on his face that he donned so often, even if he had nothing to hide.
"I can't say I disagree. We've been through a lot together, you and I. I'd be a fool to forget that now, oui?" Francis replied. Antonio stepped forward and hugged Francis, slapping his back. He motioned Gilbert over and the three hugged, grinning.
"All together then?"
"Ja, there's no better way, Tony," Gilbert cackled, slapping Antonio's back so hard the Spaniard grunted. Francis glared at the German when he received similar treatment. They broke apart, all grinning and relaxed, as if they weren't heading into what obviously would be a magical trap. Lovino stared at them, eyes narrowed.
"Fine. Antonio, the capitan of this stupid band, will you trust me?" Lovino snapped, fists on his hips. Antonio bowed to Lovino and easily snagged one hand, pulling the slender fingers up to his mouth. Lovino blushed bright red as Antonio's lips brushed his knuckles.
"I will always have faith in you."
"Sh-Shut the hell up!" Lovino stammered, yanking his hand free. "You don't have to be so damn…. damn… theatrical!"
Antonio chuckled softly. Lovino spun on his heel and stormed into the narrow passageway, his tiny golden ball of light bobbing along behind him. With a motion of his raised hand, Antonio's men fell in line behind him, Gilbert bringing up the rear and Francis directly behind Antonio. A few men already had their daggers drawn, and Gilbert had his dully gleaming cutlass in hand. Francis preferred his pistols, but it'd be stupid to draw them now in such narrow confines as this path, so he kept his hands as close to his belt as he could. Antonio had his thumbs hooked through his belt loops, strolling after Lovino completely relaxed and unperturbed.
.
All right. Chapter four done. I figured I'll drag this plot along for a while. Keep y'all coming back for more. My darling Lian-kun said she was sad it would be coming to end so quickly, so… I made it less quick. =w=b Don't y'all just LOVE ME? *w* LOVE ME!
