A/N: Once again, I updated really late and I'm really sorry. I was actually on vacation this time, in Pennsylvania and Virginia. I've only been able to go on my laptop twice, and only for an hour or two to respond to messages. I just arrived back in New York, so updates should be quicker
Btw, I think I'll have to update on a weekly basis from now on, if that's ok (even though this update took much longer than a week, and for that I sincerely apologize again)
More importantly, as you can see, Pirate!England will be divided into parts (2 parts, to be exact). This chapter will explain how Arthur's life as a pirate was while the next chapter will be Alfred's view on this personality (it appears that I tend to make my favorite personalities multi-chaptered…hm…)
As a forewarning, this chapter is going to be more serious and less comedic (since I began this fic in order to improve my writing in all areas of fanfiction). It's definitely a different style that before, that's for sure. However, part II is going to be all about the giggles (b/c comedy is my forte and I can't stand not to write it xD)
I hope you enjoy this latest installment of Arthur's Phases~
Chapter 11: Captain Kirkland, Part 1
Arthur hadn't meant for it to go this far. Not once in his life did he think this is what he would become. After all, he was a respectable man, the personification of the country of Great Britain! He shouldn't be here, drunk, singing in a bar to songs of which he knew neither the lyrics nor the tune, socializing with a crowd of criminals and nobodies.
But of course, such was a pirate's life. Yes, Arthur Kirkland, England, was a pirate. A low-down, plundering, thieving criminal. His superiors hadn't the slightest clue of how he spent his days, either. However, not only was Arthur suffering from the weight of secrecy, but because he enjoyed what he did. It wasn't as if he were captured and forced to plunder his very own merchant ships nowadays (although he was forced to at first). He did it out of his own volition.
Arthur slumped against the bar's table with his head in his arms. His head was spinning, yet the music continued to pound in his ears, causing them to ring in distress. As he attempted soothe his headache, he began to recall how he had gotten into this position in the first place…
Like every other honorable, working man, Arthur had been stressed out by the sheer amount of work he had been given. The Spanish Armada was controlling the seas with such force and vigor, causing his people to suffer. How Spain ever gained such power was beyond England's knowledge. Arthur's seas were also filled with pirates, attacking his merchant ships and making it nearly impossible for him to trade with other nations. Overall, England was in a slump.
But his dear Queen Elizabeth I wouldn't have it. She wanted safe voyages for her merchant ships, and demanded tighter security on the high seas. England knew in the back of his head it just wasn't that simple. These pirates were brutal. They never came to kill the men aboard, but came up with elaborate tactics to distract the crew in order to steal the goods below deck. And their numbers, oh their numbers, continued to increase! Both sides made up of his own men, pitting themselves against each other, one side prospering, and the other, suffering. England felt as if his stomach was constantly churning with the battles that ravaged his seas. As much as he hated to admit it, these pirates were as much a part of him as his innocent merchants. But he had morals, and these morals told him it was the merchants he had to side with, and the pirates he had to rid himself of.
Arthur was now aboard a merchant ship with other naval vessels flanked on both sides, a precautionary measure. His Queen demanded he sail on this ship, to personally see to it that the vessel reached its intended destination. England could never deny his Queen, and so he grasped the railing on the side of the ship and watched on as the sea churned out before him.
England loved his seas. They were beautiful to gaze at and the feel of the wind, saturated with the salty brine below, on his face sent his nerves into a tizzy. He closed his eyes and breathed in the humid air. It smelled nothing like the palaces he usually had to occupy, nor did it smell like the rainy, dreary environment outside the palace walls. No. The seas smelled of freedom, of escape, of power, something England had lacked these days.
Two weeks were spent on the ship before it happened, the incident that changed Arthur. Changed his attitude. Changed his perspective. Changed his personality, behavior, character…changed his life. In the modern era, France always went on during World Summit meetings about how England was really just all punk inside. Well, this is where it stems from.
In the middle of the afternoon, Arthur had decided to take a quick nap. The days aboard the ship had become dull. The crew was as boring as hell, the ship creaked with every small gust of wind, and the sea was no longer giving him the same feeling of ecstasy when he had first boarded the vessel. The quarters below deck were cramped and crawling with rats. Some crew members were even becoming ill under such conditions.
Arthur laid his head back on the flat pillow as his eyes gazed out the small port window by the cot. Another ship was sailing close by, the British flag flowing in the wind as it followed. Obviously another security ship, an ally, sent by the Queen. England allowed his eyes to close as sleep overcame him. However, this rest would not last long.
Before Arthur knew what happened, he felt the ship shake and heard a thundering crash above him. He scrambled out of bed and ran up the stairs to the deck, only to see that extra security ship was attacking them! Then…then it wasn't a security ship at all…
As Arthur thought this, the attacking men hoisted up a new flag, one with a skull and crossbones, the Jolly Roger. So this was a pirate ship.
Arthur immediately began shouting orders for the crew to calm down. The pirates had begun to swing from ropes onto the merchant vessel and screamed at the top of their lungs. England had never seen such barbarism in his life. He quickly pulled out his sword, ready to defend this simple merchant ship with his life if he had to. One man that had landed on board pulled out a cutlass and clashed it against England's sword.
Arthur stumbled back, but regained himself in time to defend against another swipe of the man's blade. As his arms struggled with the force being pushed into him, his eyes diverted to what surrounded him. His crew was being rounded up and tied to the mast, while the pirates scrambled below deck for the goods beneath. "N-no!" Arthur shouted as he saw the pirates run to their vessel with their stolen items. He pushed the man off him and attempted to stop the men making way with the goods. But before Arthur could even swing his sword again, a hard blow to the head with the butt of a pistol from behind had knocked him out cold.
When Arthur awoke, he was shivering. He felt the similar creaks of a rocking ship beneath him. Ropes were tied around his body and his body was propped up against something hard and wooden…the mast, no doubt. England didn't allow his eyes to open. Rather, he intended to listen to what was going on first. The voices seemed far away, but Arthur was able to understand a few small fragments of the conversation.
"'Tis England, I tell ye! Not jus' some random crewmember! Think o' how much the Queen would pay to get her precious country back!"
"No! We can't just put a bounty on his head. As soon as we collect our money, the Queen'll send for our capture and hang us!"
"I think we oughtta throw'm overboard. Let'm suffer a bit."
At this, England's breath hitched in his throat. Apparently, that was just the sign the pirates needed to know that Arthur was now awake. He opened his eyes as he felt his body being tugged up. He was still tied to the mast, but he was standing now, and his back and legs ached after being knocked out for so long. Just how long had he been out, anyway?
A man with a fierce face and a dark brown beard came into view. Arthur could see the faint trace of a scar on his cheek when the man got closer. He wore a pirate hat with the Jolly Roger symbol painted on it. His clothes were dignified, as if he were of nobility. His jacket was red and the fabric sewn by golden thread. And yet, his appearance, no matter how royal or dignified he looked, was menacing.
"Now look a' who jus' woke up!" he cackled as he eyed Arthur. England felt his own face stiffen. "Bet yer wonderin' jus' why yer here, ain't ya?"
Arthur tried to speak. "I-I am Arthur Kirkland, second in command to Queen Elizabeth I, a-and I demand to know just what is going on here…" He felt his hands shake even though parts of his arms were numb from the constraint of the ropes.
At this, the man laughed. "Arthur Kirkland, is it? Well, Mr. Kirkland, you may call me Captain Broderick. This is my ship, The Wanderer. And behind me be my crew," he said while gesturing towards the men behind him. They were all grubby-looking, unlike their well-dressed captain. They looked like a dangerous lot, anger and excitement billowing in their eyes. Arthur felt his breathing quicken.
"Y-you are to release me a-at once, or m-my Queen will have to-"
"Have t' what? I don't think ya understand yer position here. Yer either my prisoner or me crewmember. Now, which would ye rather be?"
Arthur didn't want to be imprisoned by such men. If the conditions aboard the merchant ship were bad, just think of how they would be aboard a pirate ship. Before giving himself the chance to think, England blurted out, "C-crewmember". At this, Captain Broderick laughed once more.
"Then ya could start by swappin' the deck!" he shouted. Arthur felt the ropes around him being untied while the Captain threw a mop and bucket of water in his direction. Both landed on the floor with a clang. The crew left the deck with Arthur standing in the middle. His hands were still shaking as the realization of his condition soon began to sink in. Picking up the mop, he began to clean the deck's surface as the sun set over the horizon of his beautiful sea…
As the days passed, Arthur never questioned the whereabouts of his former crew. The merchant vessel and its members seemed so far away now. He rarely had time for thinking anyway. A new order was always barked at him every hour of the day. England's lids drooped and his body became weary. He worked up on the deck's surface for hours with the sun blazing down on him. His clothes were dirtied, but it hardly mattered. He had decided long ago to do away with his shirt since it was so bloody hot on the ship.
As he tightened the ropes on the mast, the latest command he had been given, he felt his stomach gurgle. He hadn't had much to eat for the past few days. They gave him bits of fruit gathered from their travels, along with a couple of scraps of fish. None of this satisfied him. There was barely any fresh water on board as well. All he had drunken was grog, which was just watered-down rum that tasted terrible. However, he couldn't deny his parched throat what it needed, so he drank obediently.
It appeared that they weren't about to turn him in now that he was a "crewmember". However, Arthur very much doubted his idea. He knew his Queen would pay anything at all to get him back. He was sure the pirates were well aware of this too.
Arthur hadn't been himself the whole while he was on The Wanderer. It was as if his mind had numbed and he was just an empty shell, obeying orders without question. His personality had drained away. His thoughts were void of opinions now.
As the day wore on, he was ordered to work below deck in the kitchens. The crewmembers of The Wanderer were going to celebrate their latest plunder upon another merchant ship. It contained a lot of food and supplies meant for the colonies of the New World. Arthur slaved over the meal. Soon, he set the table and waited for everyone to sit down.
Captain Broderick was the first to take a bite out of the chicken. As soon as he put it in his mouth, he spit it out. "Good God, man, are ya tryin' ter poison me?!"
Arthur's old self immediately seeped in for the first time in many days. He shouted, "If you don't bloody like it, you don't have to eat it!"
Another crewmember shot in, "It tastes like burnt leather!" followed by someone else's shout of, "Since when did you ever eat burnt leather?!"
A chaotic atmosphere surrounded the cramped dining room until the Captain shouted for everyone to be quiet. "Quiet, ya scoundrels! It don't matter if the food ain't edible! We be celebratin' fer another reason tonight!" At this, the entire crew lapsed into silence.
Captain Broderick pulled Arthur towards him to stand at the front of the long table. "This be Arthur Kirkland, also known as England. We're either gonna put him up fer sale, or…" he stressed, "we can make'm an official part of our crew. If he does become an official crewmember, he becomes our fellow brother." Arthur looked towards the faces of the men seated at the table. Some looked angry while others looked approving of the idea. Arthur wasn't sure what to think at this point.
"Now then, if he be wantin' to be a part of our crew, then we oughtta make'm swear in, don'tcha think?" An all around "Ay, Captain!" was shouted from every corner of the room.
"Alright then!" Captain Broderick swung Arthur around to face him. He held a Bible in his hand and told Arthur to place his own hand on it. He obeyed. "Arthur Kirkland, do ye swear under the Articles of Agreement to listen t' everything I say?" England uttered a small "yes". This was something he could agree to.
"And will ye swear to help us plunder other vessels at the sake of yer name?"
This was a bit harder. Arthur swallowed before allowing another small "…yes" to escape this throat.
"And will ye be willin' to venture on land and gather information about new ships to plunder because o' yer authority as England?"
This would be the hardest of all.
"…y-yes…"
"Then by the power vested in me and my crew, I now pronounce you an official member o' The Wanderer!"
Cheers surrounded the room as the men held glasses of grog towards one another. The atmosphere was gay and full of merriment. The only one who didn't partake in the celebration was Arthur, who felt as if his stomach was being twisted into knots.
Arthur's first raid had been one of the scariest moments in his life, and also one of the best. After landing at port, the crew had been released to drink, find women, but most importantly, to gather information about new merchant vessels. The barkeeps usually knew when ships were about to set sail, but so far, the goods on board were never really of too much interest to Captain Broderick. However, he was informed that one merchant ship carrying guns and other weapons was to set sail later that afternoon. This was the ship they attacked.
England had been told to help the crewmembers carry the goods located below deck and help deliver them to the pirate ship. Broderick gave him a cutlass to scare the other crewmembers. Captain Broderick considered himself noble, for he never killed, only frightened. It hardly mattered to Arthur, who felt his hands shaking for the thousandth time.
The strategizing was elaborate. Captain Broderick concerned himself with every detail. How many crewmembers were there? How many goods were on board? (he observed how far the ship sunk into the sea to determine this piece of information) Did the crew have weapons themselves? Were there cannons? What were the conditions of the sea like? Was the wind favorable to the merchant ship or to The Wanderer? All of these small details were of the utmost importance to the captain, and he thought them all through as he stalked the merchant ship on the sea.
Eventually, a crewmember raised the Jolly Roger and the attack began. Arthur quickly pulled out his blade and grabbed a rope. He swung towards the other ship and landed on the deck a bit shakily. His heart pounded in his ears as he ran to the door that led to below the deck. He heard screams and shouts coming from all directions but paid no attention to it. He was busy hacking away at the wooden door. With one final swing, he managed to pry the door off its hinges. "It's open!" he shouted. Soon, the rest of the crew clambered towards the door. Everyone grabbed as much as they could carry.
When the ship was emptied, Arthur attempted to run back to The Wanderer. However, he was stopped in his tracks by a burly man with a sword in his hand. Arthur immediately pulled out his cutlass and took a swing at the man before him. Arthur's movements were quick and sure. The burly man stumbled about the deck as he tried defending himself against Arthur's blows. As soon as they both reached the edge, England grabbed onto a nearby rope and swung himself aboard The Wanderer.
The crew was cheering as Captain Broderick steered the ship away from the merchant vessel. Arthur felt the adrenaline continue to rush through his veins, making his heart beat thunderously and quickly. His breathing was quick with everything that he had just done. His legs buckled underneath him and he sunk to the floor. It had all happened so fast, it was almost a blur.
For the first time in many weeks, Arthur smiled.
The plunder had been an absolute thrill. His eyes were wide with excitement now as he looked out towards the sky before him. The shouting, the racing, the exhilaration of it all! The sea had gotten its beautiful blue color back, the sun was shining in the most glorious way, and Arthur had never felt freer in his entire life. Sword battles on land were nothing compared to those faced at sea. It felt dangerous, devious, and completely electrifying.
Another celebration took place below the deck, and Arthur drank his grog happily as he conjoined in the merriment. Arthur felt triumphant in what he had done. He received compliments by some of the other crewmembers for facing off against the burly man. He received the compliments with about as much dignity as he could muster, which wasn't a lot at the moment. He was too enthralled in the moment to remember what manners were. His old life as a member of nobility was nowhere near his mind right now.
"Quiet, ya scoundrels!" Captain Broderick shouted at the head of the table. Everyone quieted down at the sound of his voice. "I'd like t' propose a toast to our newest member, England!" The crew shouted words of praise in response, causing Arthur's smile to grow wider. People clapped his back and he clapped them back, feeling an almost brotherly bond with these people he barely knew. Not that it mattered much. They were his citizens after all, so he had to feel some sort of familiarity anyway.
When the festivities died down, the crewmembers crawled back into their barracks. England was one of the last to leave. However, before he could walk through the door leading into the crew's quarters, he heard a gruff, "Arthur", behind him. He turned around and saw Captain Broderick there, still sitting at the table. Arthur walked slowly towards his captain and took a seat. He wasn't used to being so obedient to others. However, he politely watched Broderick and waited for him to speak.
"Ya want t' know why I let'cha on this crew?" Arthur only gave him a questioning look.
"I…I haven't really thought about it, Captain," he responded warily. Was the Captain going to try to sell him back to the Queen anyway? Would Arthur have to give up this new life he had found amongst the seas?
"It's because I wanted ya to know what it's really like to be a pirate," he said quietly. Arthur was taken aback at this response, but said nothing in return.
"Yer England, and yet ya never concern yerself with yer common folk. Ya always got yer head wrapped up in what the nobles be wantin' and never what anyone else be needin'." Arthur continued to listen.
"Ya want t' know why I became a pirate? Well, it weren't because I wanted to! I used t' be a random seaman on some random ship. The quarters were cramped and the food was terrible. Disease was everywhere, and I got paid barely anything. I had a kid o' me own, and he was starvin'. I became a pirate to make enough fer him to run off with and work somewhere else. Fer him to have a better life than I…Eventually, however, I let the riches get to me. Now I plunder fer fun, for wealth…"
Arthur stared at Captain Broderick. He wasn't sure what to say now. England had never been good at communicating feelings, and he could only respond with a small "oh" before the captain continued.
"It be a brutal world out there. Everyone's gotta rank and there be nothin' you can do to change it. If yer a blacksmith, you'll always be a blacksmith 'til ya die. If yer a beggar, you'll be a beggar 'til ya die. That's how the world works. Ye can never be a noble, or a doctor, or anyone like that. Their voices are heard, but our's ain't. We ain't never heard. But if ye be a pirate, everyone's the same. Everyone's equal. We all be brothers with each other and no man can say he's better'n you or anyone else. Everyone's voice is heard, even the ones who clean the deck or stay up in the crow's nest…."
Captain Broderick's expression looked faraway, lost in his memories of years at sea. At this moment, Arthur let the captain's words sink in. The life of a pirate was a democracy. Everyone had a voice…and these were the voices Arthur never heard during his meetings with the royal family or the nobles.
"Off t' bed with ye," the captain muttered before getting out of his seat and walking towards his very own quarters.
Arthur lifted his head from his arms. The bar was practically empty now, and he should have been getting back to The Wanderer. He had spent a whole week on land, gathering information. So far, the Queen still believed he was missing.
Arthur groaned. It was nearly dawn and he regretted having to leave his comfy stool. He really didn't feel like joining his brothers on the ship. It wasn't as if Arthur hated being a pirate. It was the fact that he loved it and felt he could understand these fellow men that he hated. He hated himself for so many reasons nowadays.
England got up and walked towards The Wanderer and climbed on board. He had a serious hangover from all the drinking, and apparently so did the rest of the crew. One man, by the name of Wet Willy (who had a terrible habit of licking his finger and sticking it in other people's ears) came up to him. "Had fun last night, Arthur?"
"Fuck off…" Arthur muttered to Willy. His head was pounding. The ship had set sail and the rocking of the boat was making it even worse. He groaned and began to walk towards the door that opened to the deck below, where he was needed to help count the inventory, a simple but arduous task. Before he could get himself below the deck, however, the sound of a cannon being fired was heard. Arthur quickly turned around to see a ship of British soldiers make their way towards The Wanderer. Oh no… England thought to himself as he saw these men.
He made a dash for it. There was no way the nobles could see him like this! He was a bloody mess, his clothing reduced to loose rags and his hair as messy as straw. His breath smelled of alcohol and he was covered in injuries resulting from his many plunders with the crew.
The sound of feet hitting the deck roared in his ears as he tried to yank open the door. Before he could, he felt his shoulder being grabbed and a sword being pressed to his neck. "I'll kill you now, you dirty pirate!" the man shouted at him while moving his hand up to grip the back of his neck. Arthur could only manage to sputter out, "I-I'm E-england!" before the man could slice his throat. The man's eyes widened as he looked down at the grungy man in his grasp.
"A-arthur Kirkland?" he asked, unwilling to believe his own eyes. He let go of his country and stared. After undergoing the agonizing stare of this man, Arthur heard the man say, "to the Lady".
Arthur knelt before his Queen now. She was furious. She barked at him for leaving off with "pirate scum" and for scaring her half to death. He had attacked his own people, gotten drunk dishonorably, never made an effort to escape at all…She screamed that he would have been put to death if he weren't England. Her body was shaking before his figure. "Take him away," she demanded of the guards. Arthur was then dragged to his room and locked in.
England later learned that the crew he had been a part of was hanged. He witnessed the event of one of the hangings, for the Queen decided it would be best if it took place out his window. Arthur wasn't sure if anyone knew he was up there, but he could swear he saw Captain Broderick look into his eyes before the lever was pulled.
The incident broke Arthur. He usually never cried, not even in the face of his enemies. But now…it was different. He had lost something far greater than a few pirates. He had lost citizens, allies, friends. And he would continue to lose these people if this kept up. There had to be some way, some bloody way to get the Queen to see that pirates shouldn't be punished! They should be guided! He wanted her to know of the thrill of the high seas, the freedom of sailing, anything to get her to realize that he couldn't ignore the scars on his body that formed when he lost his own people.
But how could he justify attacking his own merchant ships? It was immoral and wrong. As much as he enjoyed life as a pirate, he couldn't ignore that they were criminals. Criminals who stole from England, no less. But what if they didn't need to steal from England? There were plenty of other merchant ships around!
At that, Arthur's eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet and rammed his hands against the door, demanding to see the Queen.
A privateer. That's what Arthur was now. He was a privateer, a hired pirate. He was now addressed as Captain Kirkland aboard his ship, which he promptly named Broderick. He wore the most dignified clothes he could muster, had a sword sheathed by his side, and a smile brighter than any he had let surface before.
He had both hands gripped on the steering wheel as he shouted, "Off to work, you bloody scoundrels!" to the rest of his crew. Everyone began working in quick succession, shouting "Ay, Captain!" in response.
Arthur felt the wind in his hair and smelt the salty brine in the air. Sailing his ship never got old. With it, he had laid hundreds of Spanish merchant ships to defeat. Everyone on board would get a share of the booty. Two thirds of the acquired treasures would go to the English government with the rest divided amongst the crew.
England loved the freedom among his men, the amicability of the atmosphere giving him a sense of belonging he hadn't had in the longest time. For weeks on end he would sail his ship and plunder merchant vessels, letting the ecstasy of the moment sink into his bones each time. Some days he would have to retreat back on land and see to it that his government was running smoothly. During those times, he wished nothing more than to head back to his beloved vessel and sail the seas, shouting orders and enjoying himself in an almost barbaric manner. While on his ship, he no longer needed to adhere to anyone's authority, and he felt so liberated, detached from land and at home with the sea.
Sometimes, the authorities would come by his vessel and attempt to arrest him and his crew. However, the fact that he was a privateer allowed him to present his Letter of Marque, given to him by the Queen, which told them he was allowed to partake in legal acts of piracy. This would only work with English authorities. To other countries, he was still nothing but a pirate.
But that didn't matter now. At least England could once again taste the freedom he had had aboard The Wanderer.
Of course, Spain was not happy with these pirates attacking his ships. He paced before his boss, trying to think of ways to defend his poor merchants. At the moment, Antonio had no idea the pirates attacking his vessels were hired by the English government. Many a time he had gone pleading to England to control the pirates, but Arthur always answered, "I really wish I could help, but they are a nuisance to us as well. So sorry to hear your sufferings." Spain would later grieve for his poor merchants who risked their lives to transport their goods.
Antonio's boss, however, only cared for the lost gold, and commanded Spain to sail aboard a merchant ship and defend it against the thieving pirates.
Captain Kirkland was currently below the deck in the dining hall with his crew. They drank good rum tonight, sang cliché songs, and enjoyed themselves to their hearts content. Tonight they would hit a big score. A merchant ship carrying tons of gold and silver was said to be headed back to Spain from the New World. It had triple the amount any Spanish armada ship had carried thus far, and that meant Arthur and his crew would earn quite a profit. It excited them all.
However, it was dark now. Night was never a good time to conduct a raid on a merchant ship. They wouldn't be able to see. So, Arthur and his crew spent the night however each member wanted and waited for morning to dawn.
Once the sun rose high into the sky, the Spanish vessel was spotted. The ship was called La Hermosa Rosa, and once Arthur confirmed that this was the ship they had been waiting for, they hoisted the British flag and began to go over the necessary details before the plunder.
Once the sun was right above their heads, Captain Kirkland told his crew to set sail towards the ship. He unsheathed his sword, prepared to battle anyone in the way of his treasure. He waited until they were just a few meters behind the Spanish vessel before commanding his crew to hoist the Jolly Roger into the air. Soon after, the rest of the crew readied the cannons. Arthur grabbed onto a nearby rope, ready to swing towards the ship at his signal.
"Three…two…one…charge!" he shouted wildly as he swung from one ship to another. He heard his cannons being fired and saw others swinging from their ropes towards the Spanish vessel as well.
However, this merchant ship was fully prepared for an attack. The sound of pistols shooting down his crewmembers was heard in every direction. Arthur ran across the deck, ready to slash the guns right out of their hands.
The fighting on the deck was hectic. Arthur swung his sword at what felt like hundreds of hands holding pistols. A bullet had grazed him in his fighting arm, but this was only one scar among many. He continued to shout orders to his crewmembers as he distracted the Spanish.
"England?!" Arthur heard someone shout from behind. He quickly turned around, and standing right there was none other than Spain, eyes wide with disbelief. Crap…Arthur thought to himself.
Antonio unsheathed his sword and ran towards England, while shouting at the same time. "Mentiroso! Liar! You are a pirate as well!" He swung his blade in many directions, causing England to stumble a few steps back in order to properly defend himself. The blade almost grazed his cheek at one point.
"I had to do this, Spain!" he shouted back. "The Spanish Armada has taken claim to the sea! What about the English?!" He fought off another swing of Antonio's sword and began to take the offense.
"You have stolen from me! I need this gold for my people!" Spain screamed at England, now trying to defend himself from the pirate captain before him.
England laughed as he fought. "I stole? And just how did you get this gold in the first place? I heard you've stolen it from the natives of the New World! I'm stealing stolen goods, there's a difference!" he claimed as he swung his blade at Spain's shoulder, leaving a nasty gash. Spain quickly dropped his own sword in order to bring his hand up to try and put pressure on the wound. Arthur, out of the corner of his eye, saw his crew making away with the booty. He planted his sword right into the floor before Antonio, who was now on the ground clutching the gash on his shoulder. "You are now my prisoner, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Any words you'd like to share?"
Spain looked down to his knees. England could swear he saw tears leak from his eyes when he said, "Just don't tell Romano…"
England was not the only country to hire privateers. Even his own former colony had taken to making use of them.
Alfred, although he never seemed to go on the ships himself, began to hire pirates to plunder British merchant ships during the American Revolution. Privateering in England, however, was dying down.
The Spanish Armada had been defeated a long time ago. There was no longer any need for Arthur to sail his ship and attack other nations. He had his own colonies to think about. He no longer had time to enjoy all the pleasures the sea brought him.
But there was still a pirate in England. There was still the same ferocity lying beneath his eyes and skin. He may have mellowed out, but there was still a raging pirate inside, who only needed a little provoking to get him started.
That provoking took place during the War of 1812.
England's ships were being attacked by America's privateers once more. This enraged Arthur to no end. This bloody land of freedom had copied his own form of freedom! One that he no longer had the privilege of indulging, he might add.
Arthur was currently stationed near Washington DC. He and his troops were resting for now. He heard his own naval ships in the background, trying to ward off America's own crews. He turned around to face the seas when he spotted familiar blond hair aboard one of the vessels.
Alfred.
It was Alfred…and he wasn't aboard a proper naval ship! His ship was sailing with the Jolly Roger symbol! America was sailing with privateers!
Alfred wore that same, stupid smile upon his face as he charged at one of the British ships. Arthur witnessed America swing from a rope to the other ship. He watched as America brandished a gun and began to fight his troops off. He witnessed America experiencing the same freedom he had all those years ago.
And it burned.
Arthur was seething. His expression was of daggers at the insufferable boy. Land of the free…rang through his ears like some sort of sick mantra. His head was spinning and he only wanted America to suffer for thinking that he could lay claim to Arthur's one happiness in life. The pirate in England had sprung loose.
Arthur turned towards his troops. "Burn it down," he commanded.
"E-excuse me sir?" the general asked. Arthur grabbed the general roughly by the neck and said again through clenched teeth, "Burn. It. Down."
And as America's capitol burned, Arthur pretended not to hear the agonized screams reaching his ears as he turned away from the sea.
After that war, privateering had all but died down completely. A few privateers sprung up during the World Wars, but it was nothing in comparison to the olden days. And yet privateering never died within England. It had become an inseparable part of him now. There was no way he could ever experience the high he got when sailing as Captain Kirkland aboard the Broderick. He had to make up for it with the new utilities of the modern era, such as punk music, and his new ships, the ones that sailed through the sky.
England was always one to reminisce, and contemplating back to his days as a pirate were some of the darkest and some of the fondest memories he reflected on. He was lounging on a comfy armchair in his home now, sipping tea and relaxing. He turned his head towards the window and saw a clear, blue sky, and just for a moment, he pretended it was the sky he had seen aboard The Wanderer, that it was the sky he had seen about the Broderick…the sky that haunted his dreams at night and thrilled his mind during the day.
He closed his eyes, took another sip of his tea, and let his pirate days float away.
A/N: I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter. It was really hard to write, and I'm not sure if you'll enjoy it. Critiques would be wonderful. I'm not sure if I got Arthur down correctly or not, so please, any sort of feedback would be wonderful~ (oh, and just wondering, was the pirate lingo/accent ok? that was hard to write xD)
The War of 1812 was random, yes, but the idea that pirate Arthur burned down America's capitol wouldn't leave my brain (poor Alfred…the capitol is located at the heart, I believe…I really need to write a fic about the war of 1812 from alfred's perspective, since his heart must have burned)
The only part that isn't accurate is the origin of privateering. It was Henry III who began privateering, and the Letter of Marque started to get issued under Edward I. Queen Elizabeth I did not invent privateering, but she did utilize it to the best of her ability, more so than any other king or queen. Her privateers were also known as "sea dogs" xD
Update: Captain Kirkland, Final (I'll give you all a little spoiler. I intend for this chapter to be funny and it's set in the modern era)