Written for Hogwarts Challenges & Assignments - Term 14, Assignment 10 - Culinary Arts, Task #3: Write a fic featuring a minor character you've never written or hardly written before.

For the Love of a Pirate

Regulus stared up at the fearsome man who towered over him. One of the man's eyes was covered by a black patch, while the other roamed over Regulus' shivering figure with a certain amount of curiosity.

"Well, well," he drawled. His voice was not as rough as his appearance suggested it might be. In fact, it was almost silky, and that somehow frightened Regulus even more. "What have we here?"

Regulus scrambled to his feet and found himself facing the blade of a sword wielded by a man with a wooden leg. Anger surged inside of him at the threat.

"How dare you threaten me!" he spat. It was hard to feel intimidating when he was so cold and wet, but he did his best to channel his mother's haughtiest airs. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"I suppose you're going to tell us?" the one-eyed man asked, sounding altogether bored. "Better make it good, else I'll be forced to run you through...and that would be a terrible waste of those cheekbones, luv."

Regulus flushed, though he wasn't sure if that was due to anger or the odd compliment he had just been given.

"I am Prince Regulus of England," he said in the haughtiest voice he could manage. "My ship was sunk by men flying a pirate's flag..." His voice trailed off as he noticed, the first time, the ship's flag rippling in the breeze. "You fly it, too! Pirates, all of you! Dirty scoundrels—"

"That's quite enough," the one-eyed man—pirate—said. His voice had not raised in volume, but something about the decisiveness of his tone made Regulus fall silent. "I am the captain of this ship, and I do not tolerate such insults, even from so-called royalty."

"You answer to me—" Regulus began, furious.

"You are mistaken. I answer to no one, luv," the captain sneered. "You haven't asked who I am, but I will tell you anyway. Captain Bartemius Crouch, at your...well, I shouldn't say 'service,' I suppose."

Regulus' eyes widened. He had heard of the notorious captain who stood before him. Bartemius Crouch's father, for whom he was named, was a strict rule-follower and staunchly believed that piracy was among the gravest of crimes. When it came out that his son was a pirate himself, he had wasted no time declaring war against him, just as he had all other pirates.

"I...am delighted to make your acquaintance," Regulus lied swiftly. The man holding the sword to his throat slowly lowered it.

Crouch tipped his tricorn hat. "Likewise, Your Highness. Though I see no crown to prove your title..."

Regulus thought mournfully of his crown, lost to the depths of the sea. He remembered, however, the gold signet ring he always carried in his pocket. He quickly produced it and held it up for Crouch's inspection.

"Well, well," the captain said again. "Seems you really are the prince. In that case, I suppose I should offer you fresh garments and a warm meal."

"That would be wonderful, thank you," Regulus said stiffly. The thought of feeling indebted to a pirate did not sit well with him, but the trembling of his body and rumble of his stomach were arguments enough that he should accept the offerings without complaint.

"Good." Crouch waved to one of his crew members. "Rowle, show our esteemed guest to his quarters—the cabin next to mine will do. Rosier, tell the cook to prepare our freshest meat."

Regulus followed the man called Rowle down to a small cabin. It was a cramped space, but at least it wasn't the brig. There was a tiny cot for sleeping and a chest of drawers where, Rowle explained, he would find a change of clothes.

Once Rowle had departed, Regulus found himself quite alone. He checked to make sure that the door was tightly shut, then crossed to the chest of drawers. Inside, he found several variations of beige tunics and black trousers. Not the finery he was used to, but it would have to do. He selected the cleanest-looking of the lot and put them on, relishing the fact that he didn't have to wear cold, wet garments any longer.

At the gurgle of his stomach, Regulus recalled the captain's promise of sustenance and hurried off to find him.

...

"Turtle soup?" Regulus repeated, staring down at his plate with ill-concealed disgust. "I shall eat no such thing!"

"Suit yourself, luv," Crouch shrugged, "but it doesn't get much better than that. If you'd prefer to starve, however, I'm sure the crew would appreciate the extra rations."

Regulus swallowed nervously, unsure if the pirate was being serious or not. He lifted his spoon with shaking hands and took an experimental taste. The turtle meat was rather tough, and he found himself chewing hard before he could finally gulp it down. It wasn't nearly as bad as he had feared it would be, though.

"How do you find it?" Crouch asked, watching him closely.

"It's no roast pig, but I suppose it could be worse," Regulus said with a sniff.

Crouch rolled his eyes. "You're damn right it could be worse. Quit whining. You're alive, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I might as well be in Hell," Regulus retorted. If Crouch wasn't going to mind his place, he wasn't going to mind his, either. Out in the open ocean, it seemed, the usual rules didn't matter.

Crouch grinned, showing a mouthful of pointy, yellow teeth. "Be careful what you wish for, Your Highness."

Regulus was unable to fight off a shiver at those ominous words, and he spent the rest of the meal in relative silence.

...

Night fell once more and with it came precious sleep. Regulus was exhausted from spending the previous night afloat in the ocean, and he quickly drifted off.

When he awoke, it took him a moment to remember where he was. When he felt the gentle rocking of the ship and smelled the salty sea air, however, it all came back to him—the rescue, the food, and the mysterious Captain Crouch.

Regulus was intrigued by the other man. He seemed to have some kind of magnetic pull, drawing Regulus into his world like a fisherman reeling in a catch. And like the fish on the end of the line, Regulus was unable to get away. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to. He had already seen that there was a sort of freedom in being a pirate, freedom that he had never experienced as a member of the royal family.

His stomach rumbled loudly. The meager portions of food were a definite downside to piracy.

As he set about getting dressed, Regulus decided that the company was no boon either. He missed his mother and father. He even rather missed his brother Sirius, and that was saying something.

...

Breakfast that morning was a quiet affair. Regulus again ate with Crouch, but the captain didn't offer up much in the way of conversation aside from a cheeky, "Morning, luv." He also informed Regulus that they were setting a course for Clew Bay—a well-known Irish port favored by pirates—and that was that. Regulus didn't mind, though. He was glad to have an excuse not to talk to Crouch.

The rest of the day passed quickly enough. Regulus stayed out of Crouch's way, and that seemed to suit the captain. It suited Regulus, too, keeping him far from the other man's unnerving brown-eyed stare, as well as the often-predatory looks from his crew.

He knew what the other pirates must be thinking—he was a prince, surely they could use that to their advantage somehow?

The next day, he and the rest of the men on Crouch's ship found out exactly how.

...

Regulus awoke to the sound of yelling. He quickly dressed in a fresh set of clothes, noting that he had only a few clean garments left, before hurrying out of his cabin and up onto the ship's deck.

"What, pray tell, is the reason for such commotion?" he asked Rowle.

Rowle pointed at something. When Regulus turned to look, his eyes grew wide. Land. They were approaching land.

He wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers as discretely as he could, then asked, "That's Clew Bay, I take it?"

"Aye." Rowle grinned. "You're in for a treat, lad." Regulus grimaced at the disrespectful title which had been bestowed upon him by a man who followed the wrong moral compass. "Clew Bay is a haven of delicious rum, pretty wenches, and all the news what's worth knowing."

"I see," Regulus said politely, though he only had interest in the lattermost thing Rowle had mentioned. He wanted to know if news of his ship's sinking had traveled this far, and if anyone knew how his parents fared without him. Perhaps he could even relay a message, for the right price. He had no money on his person, but the promise of riches and treasure from his family's vaults would no doubt appease an undiscerning pirate.

Before long, the ship had docked and the pirates began to disembark. Regulus made to join the disorderly queue, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He whirled around to find Crouch standing just behind him.

"I'm afraid I must advise against you joining us, Your Highness."

Regulus drew himself up to his full height. "Why not? I can handle a pirate-infested port, I assure you."

"It's not that." Crouch's voice was surprisingly gentle. "Given your...status, it's too risky for you. If one of my men lets something slip after a few drinks, who knows what fate might befall you?"

Regulus was touched by Crouch's thoughtfulness, yet irked that he would have to stay behind while the other men were allowed to gallivant about. It was hardly fair, and it put a damper on his plan to convey a message to his family.

"I appreciate your reasoning, Captain, but I must insist—"

Crouch held up his hand and Regulus fell into a resentful silence. "Pirates operate by their own codes, as you may have noticed. They will not hesitate to take you captive and hold you for ransom if they learn who you are. So unless you'd like to trade your current lodgings for a brig, you should remain aboard this ship."

Regulus swallowed. If his current quarters left something to be desired, the brig of a strange ship would surely be even worse.

"Fine." He slumped slightly. "I shall stay behind."

With that, he walked back towards his cabin, his feet heavier than if they had been weighed down with an anchor.

...

Crouch and his crew didn't return to the ship until after it had grown dark. Regulus had dozed off, despite spending the day alone and wishing for something to do, but he grew more alert when he heard raised voices.

Something was wrong.

Feeling a keen sense of déjà vu, he carefully made his way up onto the deck of the ship and stopped short.

Although he had only known Crouch for a few days, Regulus hadn't been able to reconcile the thoughtful, even complimentary pirate with the fearsome, legendary one that he had heard tales of. Now he understood why Crouch was so feared, however. The one-eyed man was shouting at one of his crew members with such vitriol that the man on the receiving end cowered away from him. Regulus couldn't understand every word that the captain said, but he was certain that there was a string of colorful curses involved.

It wasn't until he heard his title—"the prince"—that he realized Crouch was talking about him. During a lull in the yelling, he cleared his throat. This action drew the eyes of several men, Crouch included.

"Your Highness." The captain tipped his hat. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

Regulus looked from Crouch and the cowering man and then back again. "What has this man done to incur your wrath?"

"Rookwood wasted no time telling some newfound friends about you," Crouch snarled. The way the flickering lantern light cast some of his face in shadow made him look older and more menacing. "Turns out there's a reward for information about your whereabouts, and he was willing to provide proof in return for a hefty sum."

He continued to detail Rookwood's transgressions, but Regulus wasn't listening, too focused on the news of a reward for information about his whereabouts. That had to mean that his parents were looking for him.

"Who is offering the reward? Is it the royal family?" he asked, interrupting the other man.

"Aye." Crouch nodded. "Everyone's talking about it."

"They're offering a fortune!" Rookwood burst out. He seemed to have regained some confidence, and even Crouch's glare didn't cut him down this time. "Why shouldn't we make a little money off the brat, eh?"

"Because your captain warned against it. That should be reason enough," Crouch said. His fiery anger was gone, and in its place was an icy calm that Regulus found even more scary. "If you question my orders again, I will have no choice but to make you walk the plank, you swab."

Rookwood trembled with silent fury but said nothing more, while Regulus granted Crouch a small, grateful smile.

...

Crouch had bought Regulus a big straw hat in one of Clew Bay's markets. He showed it to him after a very late dinner of turtle soup and fresh bread.

"It'll keep the sun off that pretty face of yours, luv," he said with a wink.

Regulus felt his cheeks grow warm. "Must you do that?"

"Do what?" Crouch drawled, placing the hat on Regulus' head with a gentleness that took his breath away.

"Be so...reckless with your words and actions," Regulus said. He reached up to finger the hat's thin brim as he gazed at Crouch, seeing both pirate and gentleman in him, and finding it difficult to say which he preferred.

"How am I being reckless?" Crouch's voice was barely above a murmur. "I am merely speaking my mind."

Regulus shook his head. Crouch might be of noble birth, but he had chosen a life of piracy, and that alone was enough to make any sort of friendship with him unsuitable. "It isn't proper."

"And that's important to you? Being proper?" Crouch's single eye searched both of Regulus' with an intensity that made him squirm.

"It is, yes." Regulus' mouth was dry as he removed the hat from his head and handed it back to the other man. "I thank you for the kindness you have shown me, but I cannot accept this."

"Very well." Crouch threw it down beside their empty dishes before standing. "I am going to retire to bed, and I think you should too, Your Highness. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow—tomorrow, we set sail for London posthaste."

Regulus got to his feet, nodded briefly at Crouch, then swept through the door of the cabin, suddenly eager to return to his own quarters and be alone.

Back in his own cabin, Regulus climbed into his tiny cot with a long-suffering sigh. As he struggled to fall asleep, all he could think about was the disappointment on Crouch's face when he returned his gift to him.

WC: 2,545

I feel as though this needs at least one more chapter to wrap it up, but who knows when that will be. :P