Notes: Extra long chapter because shit starts going down :D
Arthur's ship was tossing in the waves of the Strait of Gibraltar as he waited for Francis to come back. He anchored the Man-O-War there, far away from the Spanish coast, not wanting to attract any attention from the Spanish monarchy while his companion hit land, looking for the criminal band. Arthur hated sitting there, waiting after the Frenchman, so he tried to content himself by stalking any frigate that passed through the Strait with his eyeglass, hoping one of them might be Armado's ship and have an excuse to finally set sail again.
Frustrated at still finding nothing, Arthur put his eyeglass away again and stormed off to his cabin to open a bottle of scotch. He'd put it off long enough, but he was on the verge of giving up on Francis actually bothering to come back. Bloody pirates should never be trusted, he thought to himself, pulling the stopper off the bottle.
"Tomorrow, I set sail, and I'm going to find my bastard brother," he promised himself. Enough was enough. He couldn't sit here, vulnerable, like an idiot, waiting on a French pirate. Such a ludicrous notion. He briefly wondered why he ever agreed to this in the first place, until he remembered the point of him standing back was out of caution more than uselessness. He grumbled to himself and reasoned that a week would be a more appropriate amount of time to wait before giving up on his companion. Giving Francis the benefit of the doubt had never proven wrong before.
Arthur's men knew better than to bother him when he was in one of these moods, drinking and mumbling to himself, so they left him alone for the most part until Francis finally boarded the ship to disturb his peace.
As per usual, the Frenchman didn't bother knocking on his companion's door and walked in to find him already half-drunk on cheap spirits and raving half-mad.
"Pull yourself together, mon ami," chastised Francis.
"It's about fucking time you showed up! Do you have any idea how annoying it is waiting after you?" raved Arthur.
"Of course not. I'm a delight. Unlike you, you drunk peddler," mocked Francis.
Arthur was about to argue about his pristine lineage and how he would never even need to be a peddler unlike his hunter-turned-pirate frog, before Francis cut him off with the meat of their encounter. "I found the city where Armado has docked. His ship has been repaired and is due to set sail in a few days."
"Oh, finally! A timeline I can work with," slurred Arthur.
"What do you mean? Aren't you going to attack them at the harbour?" Francis sat in the wingback chair across from Arthur.
"Don't be ridiculous. If I attack them at the harbour now, there's no guarantee I'll catch them all. We need another plan."
"So you want to ambush them at sea."
"Correct!" Arthur took another swig of scotch.
"Will you be embarking on this alone, or am I expected to choreograph this entire ambush with you?"
"I'm not paying you for nothing," complained Arthur.
"You don't pay me at all," smirked Francis.
"Is success not reward enough?"
"No, it's the money I make off your commissions that put bread on the table."
"What's the use in getting your own? You already eat all of my bread."
"Oh, don't start that with me again!" reproached Francis.
Arthur threw his arms up in mock surrender. "Fine. What do you want?"
"A house in the countryside."
"Is the house I already have in Canterbury not good enough anymore?"
"It's in the English countryside. That's no good. It's stuffy and cold," complained Francis.
Arthur sighed, now that he knew where this conversation was going. "Fine. Bordeaux?"
"Good choice," replied Francis, with a broad smiling across his face.
Arthur sighed again, exasperated by his lover's unquenchable taste in anything. "So how about this," he said, setting his bottle down on the desk in front of him and kicking his feet up. "We wait until they set sail. We tail them. Once they reach the open sea, we ambush them on either side with our two ships."
"And I assume we're not sinking them, but capturing their ship and their crew? Which means no extreme gun power."
"Correct," replied Arthur, still slurring. "We ambush them, corner them between our two ships, we get close enough to force ourselves aboard and we capture them."
"It sounds inelegant, but effective for the intended task."
"Good," said Arthur getting up and moving towards the bed. "And it's bloody late now, no thanks to you. I'm going to bed," he added, shrugging off his coat.
Francis continued to sit and served himself a glass of scotch as he watched Arthur. The poor Englishman was drunk and bound to pass out before he even hit the hay. By the time Francis finished his glass, scowling at its bitterness for the last time, Arthur was snoring soundly. Francis shrugged off his own coat and boots before finally joining Arthur, pulling the stubborn man to his chest as he slept undisturbed.
Today was the day.
After weeks of repair, the ship was finally ready to sail, and everyone in the crew anticipated their departure for the Bahamas. Lovino had done his best to accumulate money and treasures he could sell once there, their stocks were refilled, and the ship was much lighter now that they got rid of all the crap in the storeroom.
Armado had finally returned two days before their planned departure, after going around the city and gathering his pirates with the news. He didn't seem bothered by his missing slave, so everyone assumed Sadık was sold and Armado didn't bother telling anyone.
Lovino and Antonio took a small cabin along the living quarters to share. It just seemed more ecological this way, freeing up another cabin for other crew members. Lovino even had his own trunk, with his own spare clothing, razor, and shaving cream, so he wouldn't bother Antonio for his anymore.
It was a nice, clear day for sailing. They were bound to get some good headway through the strait of Gibraltar after they get passed all the little fishing boats along the way. As their boat was pushed out of the shipyard and into the sea, Enzo made his way up to the crow's nest as others got ready to open up the sails and rig them to steer in the right direction.
Armado and Antonio were not confident Lovino could rig the sails yet, so he was still restricted to cleaning up until Antonio went off duty so they could continue their sword training. Lovino was actually getting much better, and Antonio was proud of the improvements he made.
After a first long day of sailing, rigging, cleaning, and play-fighting for the first time in a long time, everyone was exhausted and Lovino was thankful to be able to retire to the cabin he shared with Antonio and sleep uncomfortably in his hammock. He felt a moment of satisfaction thinking that it was his hammock and no one else's. Under his hammock was his trunk with his stuff and no one was allowed to use them without his permission.
No one but Antonio, who slept in the hammock next to his, just close enough for them to hold hands as they slept.
... ... ... ... ...
Sometime in the night, Lovino was startled awake by movement and noise in the dark room.
"What are you doing," he whispered aggressively to the black form standing out against the darkness.
"I'm replacing Enzo in the crow's nest," answered Antonio. "Don't worry. I'll be back in the morning to wake you up."
Lovino tried unsuccessfully to push himself up on his elbows, but Antonio gently pushed him back down and laid a soft kiss to his brow and lips. Lovino took this opportunity to pull him back down for a longer, deeper kiss before eventually letting him go.
Antonio silently left the cabin for the main deck, leaving a lonely Lovino behind, unable to sleep anymore.
... ... ... ... ...
The next time Lovino woke up, light was just barely seeping through the walls. Anxious for morning and to be by Antonio's side again, he clumsily fell to the floor and sluggishly dressed himself for work. Maybe they would let him rig the sails today. With mixed feelings of anticipation and dread, Lovino walked out of the cabin and into the main living quarters. Not feeling hungry yet, he made his way up to the gun gallery, and up again to the main deck where Antonio was supposed to be.
As soon as he reached the top of the narrow stairs, the pressure in the air seemed almost tangible. Every crew member on deck was on edge and appeared to be waiting for the worst as they sailed quietly in the dark foggy morning. The silence made Lovino's skin crawl with the first surges of panic. This wasn't normal. Something was wrong.
Everyone was so silent on deck, Lovino winced with every creak his steps made as he moved towards the prow where Armado and Alistair stood, trying to see through the thick fog. He stood between the two, hoping one of them would notice him and put his fears to rest.
Armado was the first to speak. "British Man-O-War hiding in the fog." He wouldn't say any more, almost as though he expected this to be enough for Lovino to understand. It wasn't.
"Where's Antonio," he whispered in the same volume Armado used.
"Crow's nest," he answered with a tinge of annoyance.
Lovino looked up the main mast where the crow's nest was supposed to be. He couldn't see it from the deck through the fog. The earlier surge of panic he felt returned.
"Get a weapon ready," whispered Alistair through gritted teeth. Lovino sensed he was angry, but he couldn't understand why.
He walked away as quietly as he could as the two men continued to stare into the fog. Their behaviour was creepy and bordered on complete nonsense. He decided to stand near the main mast where Antonio would have to eventually come down. He was soon joined by Enzo, carrying two swords. He wordlessly handed one to Lovino. Lovino's anxieties increased as held the hilt of the very real sword in his hands. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it.
"Shouldn't someone be loading the cannons?" he asked Enzo quietly.
"No one wants to risk making noise. This fog is the only thing protecting us from the British right now," he answered, his voice cracking in a barely noticeable manner.
Lovino had nothing to say to this, for fear of giving himself more reasons to be stressed. "Will Antonio eventually come down?" he asked.
Enzo shook his head. "Not until he can spot one of them."
"One of them?!" Lovino fought hard to keep his voice low. "There's more than one?"
"He noticed two so far. Unless it's the same one circling us, but that's not likely."
Lovino looked into Enzo's stoney face, and started to panic again. Everyone was so terrified and there was nothing they could do but wait. The fog would clear eventually though, and then they would have to fight for their lives with not one, but two ships.
A brief thought flashed through Lovino's mind that he may never see his family again. Even worse, if they were attacked before Antonio came down from the crow's nest, he wouldn't ever seen him again either. Lovino clutched at his chest, trying to ease the heavy feeling in his heart. This was not the time to panic and it was not the time to think so morosely. This was the time for quick-thinking and patience.
They waited for a long time before Antonio finally came down with no news of enemy ships. This was not enough to ease Armado's worries, knowing the British could be cunning bastards. The fog later began to clear before any semblance of a ship could be seen.
There was cannon fire port side. The ship rocked under their feet, knocking some men to the floor and others overboard to drown in the strong currents. Pirates started shouting and Lovino panicked, feeling disoriented by the suddenness as Antonio caught him before he could hurt himself.
As every man aboard focused their attention port side, loading cannons and staring into the fog, trying to find the ship again, a huge, bulking ship appeared starboard side, flanking the Madreperla as red-coated men embarked aboard the ship. Lovino could just make out the sound of gunfire and shouting Englishmen as Antonio shoved him out of harm's way, but to no avail.
The second ship began to flank their front port side, blocking the Madreperla where he floated. The cannons wouldn't be able to reach that ship. By the time the many British men boarded, their Man-O-War blocked their back, effectively leaving the smaller frigate trapped between two much larger ships she could never break through.
They were surrounded.
Lovino tried to stay close to Antonio without getting in his way as the Red Coats closed the gaps between them. The pirates had no where to go but down, and none even wanted to contemplate the option of sinking their ship. There were some still downstairs loading cannons to fire at the ship that shot them, but before they could, another shot ran through the ship as another cannon pierced her side.
Pirates fought Englishman in a losing battle as the British were herding them towards the centre of the ship from either side. Before long, any crew member left alive on the main deck circled the main mast with their backs to each other and Englishman brandishing muskets in their faces, threatening to shoot. A fellow pirate made the mistake of charging at one and was shot dead in the face, splattering his brains across the floorboards, silencing the others still wanting to preserve their lives at least a little longer.
Lovino stood behind Antonio as the Spaniard shielded him from the gun barrels. Lovino didn't complain, knowing fully well that Antonio was far more experienced than he was and had much higher chances of surviving this than he. This gave Lovino the ability to look around and observe.
He could just make out Armado and Alistair, cornered off at the other mast, the one closest to the prow of the ship. He noticed the blond Red Coat that looked like he might be the captain scowling down at Alistair with his palms on his hips like he was chastising a child. Alistair seemed to recognize him and was pissed as they rambled to each other in English.
"You stupid pig, Arthur! Father always said you were up to no good!"
"I was up to no good?! You're the bloody fucking pirate here!"
"Pirate, privateer, same bloody difference."
"I will skin you and deliver your head to your mother!"
"How dare you speak of my dead mother like that!?"
"I'll drink wine out of your skull!"
"I'll drink rotgut out of yours so it could taste just like your soul, you slimy son of a bitch!"
Their argument went on like this for quite sometime until a man with long blond hair and a light blue coat walked up to the Englishman Alistair named Arthur and laid a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear and silencing the argument. Alistair was still fuming, but he was listening to the conversation intently, snarling at Arthur. Lovino wondered what their relationship was, and made a mental note to ask Alistair about it when he got the chance… If he got the chance.
The two men turned to the rest of the crew standing at the mast, observing them, looking for trouble-makers.
"Listen, you stupid pieces of shit," snarled Arthur. "We know the bloody lot of you are pirates, and every single one of you will atone for your crimes one way or another. If you behave, you'll be brought to the Bahamas and hung as examples. It's quite merciful. You might even enjoy it, knowing how sadistic you all are." Then he paused to pace a little the way he came, with his arms behind his back, looking at them one by one. "If you don't, you'll meet a worse fate. Are we clear?"
He paused, obviously waiting for a reply and staring each of them down with an icy glare. Lovino avoided his eyes entirely, not wanting to speak. The pause seemed to take forever, until a man somewhere at the other end of their circle spoke up.
"What happens if we don't listen?" he asked maliciously.
Then Arthur smirked at the assembly, and strode over slowly to where Alistair and Armado were tied together to the first mast. He pulled a flintlock out from under his coat and shot his load into Armado's chest, peppering him with holes that started spewing blood, staining Alistair's pale face, now stunned with shock.
Chaos ensued.