Oi, I'm back! In light of my holiday, I've been given the time to finish this chappie! More to come, obviously, but I can't give you a precise date.

In case some are wondering, yet again, don't worry, I'm not dropping this. I've got the outline planned out. I'm expecting another two parts, maybe, one of which is sort of a concluding chapter.

If you're reading this, I'd also like to suggest that you try out some of my more recent oneshots, in case you haven't tried them out. There's a Zeldark centric ficlet, Shades of Deception, which I so obviously overrated because I was feeling prim that day, and there's There Was, a cute modern piece for the pairing of your choice. And there's also Freak, a modern Zelink oneshot, in which Zelda kinda lusts after that hot blonde copier repair guy. Try 'em out and give me a word, will ya?

Now, as for this chapter, do enjoy.

Warning: Meh. Seduction, but honestly. It's nothing new, aye?

In case you don't remember, Link and Knil are facing off on the Medallion's deck.

Privateer
Part 3: Ambivalent Counterparts
By CM

"Drake," Link Forster growled, arm outstretched with his finger tightening on the trigger, even as he was met with a dark haired, sharp-eyed privateer captain. The two looked strikingly similar in their form and age, but at the same time were complete opposites. The thing that was most alike in their appearance was their set eyes, as deep black fiercely met vivid blue.

"Well, well," Knil Drake drawled with a playful smirk, even as they both steadily aimed for the other's face with their twin pistols. "If it isn't the Lune child. It's been a while, aye?"

"Far too short a time," Link Forster ground out, sending his motionless adversary the most malevolent glare he could muster. "I'd have sunk my ship myself had I known."

"Clearly," Knil Drake laughed in amusement, "that simply proves you haven't changed since the Empress. Still so darned stubborn, aye? Still ready to die, aye?"

Motion slowed down on the foggy Medallion's deck. Knil Drake's crew had eased all of the assaulted ship's rebellious crewmen to stillness. There was a breathless pause, and though Knil cocked his head amusedly, his gun-wielding hand did not waver.

Fury filled Link Forster like never before. His hand shook, and his finger tightened and loosened over the trigger.

"Shoot, coward," Knil snickered, and Link froze in remembrance. Hatred flowed through his veins faster than blood, and yet he could not muster the energy to pull on the trigger. He cursed himself for his recurrent weakness. Knil did not miss the many emotions that flitted across Link's vengeful face.

Shoot, coward, the words replayed, and two younger voices said them within their minds.

"Drive a bullet through me head," Knil Drake said, daring Link to shoot again.

Link's arm was cramping from the sheer tension he put onto his muscles, and his finger twitched over the trigger but did not pull. He gritted his teeth, feeling murderous but unable to act on it.

Drive a bullet through me skull, he heard a cruel child say inside, beyond the realm of a few years. Avenge him.

"Can't shoot?" Knil Drake asked, eyebrow raised in an interested manner. "Can't keep to promises, Forster?"

Avenge him.

Link, for all his ability, was unable to pull the trigger. This would be the end of him. Knil's hand still had not wavered.

For heaven's sake, avenge him, fool!

"Father…" Knil said, his smirk turning ironic, as though he was trying to bait Link into surrendering. "Remembering your father, Lune child?"

Link Forster pulled on the trigger, blind with rage. There was a loud crack and a detonation.

Link felt himself being shoved aside, and he fell, weakened and stunned. He was still seething, and somehow the fact that Knil Drake had deviated his gun barrel with a simple nudge of his own gun-wielding arm as Link had been pulling on the trigger did not surprise the Medallion's captain.

Curses…! The young privateer thought to himself angrily as he glared hatefully at the dark-haired young man standing above him.

The other captain merely shot him a smug, disdainful look.

"You haven't changed, Forster," he started, and he seemed like he would bother himself with a speech, but he got distracted by a struggle that was occurring at the corner of his eye. He casually looked over to the quarter doors and raised one of his brows.

The Hammer's captain was handsome in a way similar to Link Forster, though his gait transmitted more disdain than friendliness. His facial features too were sharp, but in a focused, assassin-like way. It seemed his eyes were narrower, his brows more furrowed, and he looked at others from below them rather than straight on.

He also handled a weapon with more ease than most and less respect than anyone.

Annoyed at the interruption, Knil Drake was ready to shoot the disturbances in cold blood, before he saw just what was ongoing. His eyes, to Link Forster's dread, became interested, though not matter-of-factly.

The look he gave the struggling lady Zelda Harnian was many things, but it was not one of propriety.

"Don't you dare—" Link Forster growled in warning, but Knil Drake merely looked back at the privateer sprawled on the ship's deck and snickered.

Aiming his pistol at the Medallion's captain, he motioned for his crewmen to bring the lady closer.

When she was close enough to see Link Forster at gunpoint, she stopped her struggle instantly. She had been violently dragged, despite Mikau's best attempts, onto the deck by two burly men. They had not had any qualms about mishandling her, and she was certain one of them had taken the leisure to brush her chest before grabbing her arm and putting, she was sure, a massive bruise on her pale limb.

Nevertheless, she was a stubborn woman, and had struggled as much as she could. She had proudly sent one of them cussing after biting their filthy hands. She had knocked one of them in the leg and stomach with two well-placed kicks.

But the monsters had grabbed her nape and pulled her hair, pushing her to her knees. Her legs buckled under her, and she found herself unable to move.

Thus, she was kneeling on the wet, foggy deck, hearing more than seeing the chaos around her, hands pulled up, but head pushed down. Humiliated and frightened tears had found their way to her eyes. She could hear gunshots. None of this had Marth ever mentioned. He'd spoken of battles as epic adventures, ones to woo a lover with tales of bravery.

This… This was not what Marth had described. This fear, this helplessness, this overwhelming powerlessness had never been mentioned.

Oh, how she hated Marth at this instant! How she ought to have stayed home! A lifetime of rejection would be better than this uncertainty, this knowledge that one could be alive now and dead the next instant.

Suddenly, she felt herself being roughly pulled up and dragged more than walked along. She tried to wriggle out of their firm grasp and sent a kick flying, but it touched nothing solid.

Her eyes flew up to look at where men were taking her. She saw Link Forster, splayed on the deck, staring straight into the cannon of a gun. The gun itself looked strikingly like the handsome captain's.

Thus, he was helpless as she!

The tears fell over her cheeks. Now she had been stripped of her pride, and it was a horrible feeling, like she was bare to all eyes.

Then, unexpectedly, the two thugs let go of her, and she crumpled, barely catching herself on her hands and knees. Her breath came in short gasps, and the sheer panic made her wonder which side to escape to.

Before she could move, however, a long, thin, oddly gentle finger came to lift her chin. She found herself looking into a pair of beautiful and deep black eyes. Her breath caught, and more tears spilled.

"Now, now," a smooth, almost seductive voice said, unbelievably close to her, sending dread into her veins, "why the tears? Have you been so mistreated by my men?"

She did not respond, mesmerized beyond all comprehension. A sob and gasp shook her, feeling more humiliated tears pearl down her cheeks. The gentle finger under her chin moved, and traced a pattern to wipe one of them off. It was a slow, deliberate movement, and she felt how cold the finger was, despite its smooth and lulling caress.

"Worry not," the voice said through her haze, "I'll have them severely punished for your affront."

"Don't touch her!"

The sudden shout violently pulled her out of her daze, and seemed to call the black eyes' attention.

She turned her head and saw the handsome blonde captain looking murderous. For a moment, she thought the anger was aimed at her. Then, she peered at the man who had softly handled her and was shamed to think of him as seductive and darkly handsome as well.

"Now, Forster," the man said, "I kindly visit your ship and you don't even take out the silverware." He glanced at the lady. "Perhaps you ought to give me the honours of taking replacement?"

"She isn't yours!" The Medallion's captain said, loudly, furiously.

"Oh?" The black-eyed man looked down at the blonde, ragged beauty, and smirked suggestively, "But she doesn't seem taken, aye? I could make her one of my mistresses. I lost count of the numerous Misses Knil Drake already."

Her eyes widened and she visibly moved backward, though not much. He was still armed and his gun could turn onto her at any given time.

"You… You're…"

The dark eyed man smiled broadly, but it was not a motion than sent her heart a-tingle. Instead, it made horrified shivers trail down her spine.

"My reputation precedes me, I see. Well enough," he said, bringing a hand to caress her cheek and hold her hair, to her trembling disgust. He brought his face close to hers and breathed, hotly, almost on her lips, "I have a feeling you and I shall enjoy our nights, woman."

She wanted to faint.

"Get away from her!" Link Forster said, enraged. A gunshot rang out in the stillness. All combats had already ceased and both crews, hostages and gaolers alike, were watching the unfolding events. At the gunshot, all had jumped, startled and taken short.

Link Forster stared in shock at the deep hole the bullet had dug just over his shoulder, as it had whizzed past his ear and embedded itself in the wood with a loud crack.

Knil Drake let the gun fume and glared at the weaker captain. "Silence! Lest you want me to help you become the next Lune." The last bit was added with a particular venomous edge.

The threat sent a shiver into all the witnesses' stance. It seemed as though this was a rare threat on the Hammer captain's part. And the Lune Empress' tragic end was a secret to no one.

Satisfied that Link Forster had been silenced for the time being, Knil Drake turned back to the lady, who was looking pale and ill. He noticed that she hadn't quite paid heed to his threat. He approached his face from hers and saw she was in shock. Not one to care much—women were far easier to manipulate when like this—he asked, "Did Forster tell you about the Lune Empress, by any chance?"

She looked at the dark-haired man with a mix of horror and hate. Because she was unable to summon words in her fear, she nodded weakly. She was getting light-headed and was on the verge of fainting.

"Did he ever tell you about his implication in the actual events?" The cruel privateer asked, lulling her with dagger-sharp but sweetly said words.

She shook her head, and the motion made her feel like all her blood had left her head and was sinking in her knees and stomach, uselessly. The world spun around her, and dark spots appeared in her vision.

The dark-haired captain, seeing she would not hold for long, smirked, and said, "If he does not die today, you'll ask him about the Twin Pistols."

She heard a loud crack, a thud. The captain in front of her grunted, and she heard no more. She collapsed.

Zelda Harnian awoke to sounds of cheering that came from far away and below deck. She was feeling awful and her stomach immediately growled that she was famished. Her mouth was dry and tasted bitter. Her hands were weak and her legs, she knew, would be unable to support her weight if she chose to stand.

Her ears hurt to hear, and her eyes refused to open. When they did, it sent the bright daylight pouring into her head, hammering painfully. She had to shut her eyes and let out an uncharacteristic groan.

Then, the lady remembered.

She lay on the bed with shut eyes, fists unconsciously tightening on the sheets. She tried to recall more than those last instants before her mind closed off. To her terror, she could not remember ever being transported to this bed, much less if anything else had occurred since.

Without daring to open her eyes again, for fear of making them sting again, and for fear of seeing her bodily state, she tried to understand her situation.

Aside from the sharp pain in her skull, probably a consequence of her fainting and hitting something, she felt no other ache, dull or sharp, anywhere. She prayed that this was a good sign. She'd heard stories of women whose aching bodies were ominous tales of horrible treatments.

Where was she? She had been blinded before by the light and had not been able to recognize her whereabouts.

Somewhere, far off, there were loud cheers. Her mind raced. Only a live and well crew could celebrate thus. This lead to an obvious conclusion: she was on the victor's ship.

The lady was beginning to feel ill.

Forcing herself to open her eyes, the lady felt tears come up when the pain of daylight burned her again. Ignoring those stubbornly, she pushed herself up. She was feeling numb and stiff, but no pain shot in her body. It was a relief.

Then, her eyes darted around. They'd adjusted to the brightness and she found that the room she lay in was unfamiliar. It could hardly be called a room, in truth, as the light that blinded her came from the opening in the grate above her. She could smell the sea air coming in from there and the fresh, minuscule droplets of spray on her face. She lay on a bed, a rare thing, in truth, and it was a closed room, save for a door on the far side. The cheering came from beyond and below. This ship had, it seemed, two under-decks, not counting the bilge.

Just like Link Forster's ship, she thought with a sinking feeling.

The ship itself creaked, and she heard the large sails flap in the strong wind, outside.

Pushing to her feet, the lady Zelda Harnian felt instantly dizzy. She fell back, somewhat, waiting for her usual steady foot to return. Then, she stood once more. It was a painful exercise, she decided, to attempt movement after a long instance of unconsciousness.

Gazing round, the lady decided she was somewhere in the ship's body in the stead of comfortably tucked away within the captain's cabins near the stern. Under her bare feet, the floors creaked and groaned, hoisted by the sea and bothered by her weight. She squinted, feeling the sun and fresh wind blow hair into her face. What sort of room was this, that one would trap an unconscious woman at the mercy of a possible storm or even to the cold ocean water?

Evidently, she admitted to herself, it was not a particularly displeasing feeling, and it had helped clear her head of its previous headache, but it was undoubtedly a very unorthodox method.

There were more cheering sounds. The lady shivered with anxiety and made for the door, cautious.

As fate would have it, she now desired nothing more than to be on the receiving end of one of Link Forster's jests, if that should signify she was safe again. Quite evidently, she had instead been taken away—or so she determined—and was now in an unknown amount of danger.

The lady contemplated this as she reached out to graze the doorknob with the tip of her fingers.

And, as fate should have it, the door opened before her eyes, and revealed the most beautiful sight she could ever imagine, let alone wish for.

"Milady. You are awake?"

Standing in the doorway, looking stunned, was Link Forster, and he looked completely unscathed. The mere sight of him sent her heart into a tizzy, and she felt her pulse grow erratic shamelessly.

If Link Forster had known quite how much she desired to throw her arms around his neck to sob with relief, he wouldn't have let the corner of his lip quirk upward to smirk, nor would he have said, in that voice which she was beginning to find uncannily soothing and which she was growing to fancy, "I hadn't expected you to be up and about quite so soon. Can't say I'm disappointed, though."

Incomprehension at his untimely survival flooded her thoughts, but all she could do in that moment was stand motionless, in shock, as her eyes welled up with tears and as she drank in the sight of the handsome privateer captain.

Then, she asked, "How…?"

Link Forster, his expression growing grave, looked away from her and smiled faintly. "You fainted. I used the distraction to knock Drake out." He looked thoroughly annoyed, then. "I must apologize for my inability to keep you out of danger."

Her breath hitched, and her cheeks flushed. How strange. She hadn't grown red since the time Marth had first laid his eyes on her.

If the privateer captain noted this, he did not comment upon it.

"Where is he now?" The lady suddenly asked.

Link Forster shot her a tiny frown. He motioned for her to seat herself on the bed. She reluctantly returned to the cot. Her straight-backed stature had come back, but she was surprised to notice he was as tense as she, which was, she hated to admit, rather alarming.

"Captain?" She softly asked.

To the lady's surprise, the handsome privateer let out a low breath and sat heavily beside her. The bed creaked under the added weight, but he didn't seem to acknowledge it.

Unaccustomed to his familiarity and closeness, which she'd only experienced a select number of times prior and which made her infallibly uncomfortable, the lady's shoulders tensed.

He shot her a sideways look, as though he could guess her every thought. "Milady, I must ask that you be wary of Knil Drake." He looked around the room. "I had him shackled in the lowest under-deck. We've split his crew up and are taking the Hammer along with us." His eyes stopped to look out the grate opening. "Because of this, half my crew is unavailable for your protection. I therefore had you moved to my quarters and locked in."

The Lady Zelda Harnian's eyes widened, and her gaze grew accusing. Before she could say a word, he took hold of her arm, his grip on her tight. It had been quick, and it was stinging. When she gasped in pain and fear, he hissed, in her face, uncomfortably close "Do not lend me impure thoughts, Milady. I did it for your safety, and I needed my own quarters for discussions. But so help me, I will not allow you to be nearly taken away again."

Both their pulses were quick as they breathed harshly. There was something raw between them that put the lady ill at ease. It was an exacerbated variant of the passion she had felt for and from Marth, though this was unbridled, coarse, and she felt it blaze beneath her skin, under his burning fingers.

The lady winced, and he noticed her furrowed brow and clenched teeth. Eyes falling to the bruise he was giving her, the privateer blanched and let go of her, as though he'd been singed.

She stood and moved away from him. Neither dared a look in the other's direction. For the longest time, they struggled to regain their senses. Finally, Link Forster rose to his feet.

He cleared his throat, but found nothing to say. She did not turn. She did not seem to expect him to speak.

"My apologies," he finally said, his voice a mere whisper.

The lady did not respond. She did not turn when he quitted her, no, his quarters.

Then, letting out the pained tear that had been welling in her eye, she let out a sharp, relieved breath. Never mind her earlier thoughts. This captain was a threatening fellow after all, not for his violent passion, but rather for the energy he transmitted her, and she cursed herself for allowing her harsh demeanour to soften in his presence, against her will.

Her thoughts wandered to the other captain. The one Link Forster had shackled and stored within the ship's hold. In that instant, she wondered if perhaps Knil Drake would have put her in the same conditions.

Perhaps it would be a truth to say that the lady could not, after Link Forster's intense welcome, think clearly. It would also be likely that she was torn between a twisted captivation for the dark-haired privateer and an obvious terror at the seductive and cruel words he spouted constantly.

Thus, though she had just now been warned, the lady left the room, which Link Forster had not locked again. He was nowhere in sight, and this she considered a blessing for her frazzled nerves.

Indeed, the crew was celebrating, she found out. Most of them had passed out, and thus she could pass them by and head for the narrow, steep staircase. They did not even acknowledge her.

At first, Zelda Harnian hesitated, frightened that someone should take notice of her. She also feared the questions that could be asked, the strange insinuations or assumptions that would be made. It was with anxiety that she descended to the lowest deck, ears and eyes ready to spot any onlooker.

She did not understand the strange desire that had taken her. It was an odd mixture of fear, perversion and fascination. She knew she was making a foolish decision but refused—and thought impossible—the idea of turning back.

The privateer Knil Drake, had, it was clear, terrified and seduced her all at once, and it was this she understood when her borrowed boots touched the ship's bottom and she found that in the arching and dark, bilge-water had gathered, smelling awfully bad. She paused, sensing that the water and slime would make it difficult to walk.

Her head turned in the near-blackness when she overheard the ringing of chain links.

Last, there he was now, sitting on a wooden supporting bow. Around them, the ship creaked and waves hammered its sides in a low, continuous flop. Here, though, the only thing making evident noise was the bilge swaying in time with the vessel, but it stayed in the lower curve at the centre of the hull.

If the fallen captain had noticed her, he gave no indication of it. He merely sat, looking particularly deplorable, curled so his chin rested on the side of his knee, dark hair falling over his eyes. She could not see, in the gloom, whether he was awake or not. The chain, shackled to his foot, looked heavy. He stayed clear of the filthy water sloshing where she stood.

Carefully, she moved towards him, and still he did not stir.

When at last she was before him, his voice surprised her. He sounded tired and hoarse.

"What may I do for you?" This had been spoken lowly, as though he hadn't eaten in days. He smelled rather foul, much like the whole area here, and dark stubble had grown on his chin. Despite that, when they met hers his eyes shone mockingly. "Came to see me for the cheer of it?"

She ignored his self-mocking tone and asked, "Is this the first time you get caught?"

He smirked, looking somehow disgusted. "Aye." His eyes surveyed her. "I won't mind so much if you feed me good with your fingers though."

She shuddered, but did not back away from him. Here she confronted a shackled murderer and yet she avoided a passionate but harshly spoken captain.

The dark-haired privateer's gaze ran over her form hungrily, but did not seem satisfied.

"What do you want?" He asked, bluntly, unnerved that she had not taken food with her.

The lady found she did not know. He saw it and scoffed.

"Could it be the beauty should not know what she wants from a man?" He closed his eyes and said, in a different tone, "Did the Lune child send you here?"

"Why do you refer to Captain Forster thus?" She asked, her voice wavering. She was shamed to sense her anxiety.

The dark haired privateer shot her a condescending smile, quite the feat if one considered his situation. He sat straighter now, vaguely amused. "He didn't tell you, lass?" Before the lady could reply, he shrugged one of his square but narrow shoulders and said, "Not quite the glossiest time of his life, I do suppose." He chuckled to himself.

"Why do you sport the same pistol as he?" She asked again, slowly remembering the endless number of questions she had. "How do you know him? How did he—"

"Quiet," Knil Drake barked, glaring at her. "It ain't nothin' of your business, woman, if the man ain't the guts to tell you himself. Then again," he smirked mirthlessly, "I do suppose he's never been much of a completely fearless sort. Piteous slob," he added, as an afterthought.

The lady did not move. Noticing she had not been frightened by his outburst, the dark haired privateer motioned with one hand for her to get closer. She took a careful step in his direction, but stopped out of his reach.

"Curious, lass?" This once he spoke with a low, seductive growl. "I can tell you everything you ought to know 'bout Forster, for a price."

"Price?" Her voice was weak now. Her strength had deserted her; she felt herself fall beside him. To her horror, she was within reach and he could at any moment take a hold of her and have his way if he so pleased, and this made her curse herself. Her prime instinct was to break away from his presence, but he was enthralling and he had not yet moved a finger near her.

The privateer-captain smirked, but made no motion.

"I'll make fair with you," he said slowly, appraising the way her chest swelled in the tight corset with her every breath in the gloom. His hand reached out to finger a stray lock of her hair, and his lips stretched into a controlled but distinctly feral smile. "I tell you the story, woman, and I'll give you my price at the end of the tale."

She did not move, breath coming a bit faster now, from the fear of his proximity.

"Will you sign a pact with the Sea Devil?" He asked, beguiling, and she instantly nodded, feeling light-headed and dizzy.

With a smirk, he leaned towards her. She realized now that she could not escape. He took a hold of the chain that bound his foot and, surprisingly gently, wound it around her leg, which he took great pleasure in uncovering. He removed the boot and her bare foot appeared. He pushed her skirts up slowly, so that the folds ended at her knees, revealing the indecent, long pale limbs. She did not move as his fingers played on the pale skin of her ankle, but her breath hitched when he placed a seductive kiss at the back swell of her left shin.

When he moved away slightly, his rusty chain bound her and it hurt somewhat, but he trailed a single finger down her leg and she shivered and all the discomfort subsided, replaced by the impression of bordering pleasure and horror.

"You want to know 'bout Forster, aye?" He smirked and spoke under his breath.

To her relief, he pulled away.

"Before we start," he said, examining her face, subdued now that he was in power, "Have you heard of the Lune Empress at all?"

She nodded slowly, nursing her pale ankle.

"Did you know, then," Knil Drake asked, "that Link Forster was the son of the Lune Empress'captain?" At her surprise, he chuckled. "It's not a thing he likes to talk 'bout, seems. But he was." The dark privateer squinted, trying to recall something. "The man's name was Raven Forster."

He looked back at the blonde beauty sitting beside him in a half daze. "And Raven Forster took Knil Drake as his son."

"He took you—" The lady looked stunned. How, indeed, could he and Link Forster have been raised by the same person? It was preposterous!

"Aye," Knil Drake laughed, but his laugh held no warmth. "His wife was fruitless after her first child, and he wished for a playmate for his son." He scoffed again. "I don't think the old man was all sober when he took me in."

The lady gazed at the privateer's profile. "He was a drunkard?"

Knil Drake laughed to himself. "Nay, nay, lass. He wasn't all clean but he was a good 'un." His face darkened. "Too good, really. It was sickening."

"And… Captain Forster… Link Forster. How was he, as a child?" The lady asked, softly, unsure whether the agreement she had with Drake included her questions.

"He took 'fter his old man," Knil Drake grunted. "Cheery, open, loud, mischievous little bugger he was."

The lady smiled thinly, breath still somewhat hoarse. The captain-privateer noted it and said, "He was a year younger than me, and so I didn't want anything to do with 'im." Knil Drake furrowed his brows in thought. "Dun think he knew I hated 'im much."

"The pistols…" The lady asked, wondering if the two artefacts would be part of his tale sooner or later.

"Aye, the twins," Knil Drake nodded. "They came into play when the capt'n Raven Forster saw his son and his adopted son were driftin' apart." The dark-haired privateer shook his head derisively. "Old man had a couple of screws loose. We were busy docking and replenishing our supplies, and when he convoked us to 'is cabins, he gave us both a pistol. He told us they were sturdy and that we'd be bound to each other so long as they remained intact."

"Raven Forster was the one who gave you the pistols?" The lady asked, dumbfounded.

Knil Drake turned to gaze at the beautiful captive at his side. Both knew she was not truly bound. The chain was merely symbolically wrapped around her foot, and she could escape. He wondered why she had not.

"By the time I received the pistol, I already had other allegiances, woman, and the old man was of no more use to me."

Moving towards her, he placed a hand beside her thigh, moving so that he gazed in her large, surprised blue eyes.

"Have you ever held a pistol, milady?" He asked in a seductive growl.

She nodded, recalling the times Marth had trained her, and remembering her first experience of one of the twin pistols. She still blushed in embarrassment to think of it, but this time the look the privateer was giving her made her warm at the pit of her stomach.

If the captain-privateer took notice of her flush in the dim lighting, he did not mention it.

"Have you ever experienced the pure lunacy attached to that coiled power," he asked, "that fire not yet ignited?" He breathed, and he fascinated her. "Have you ever turned a barrel towards a living being knowing that a single flick of your finger can end all they've known?"

Her breath became visibly ragged, but she did not back away from him.

"I have," he said. "I have, woman, and I used it that very night, when we were out at sea. Oh, we weren't far from shore. The pistol I'd been gifted was only making the irony of their deaths more enticing.

"They fought back," he continued, "oh, how they fought back. But I slaughtered them all, lass, one by one, bullet after bullet."

"And the captain?" She asked in a breath. "His wife? His son?" Her voice wavered at the last question.

"Killed both the old man and his wife." Knil Drake said, enjoying the newfound fear so clearly written in her eyes. "By the time I came to kill the pitiful Lune child, he was aiming at me with the copy of the pistol that had driven lead through his only family."

The lady had lost use of her words. She watched, entranced, as the dark-haired captain ran a long, slender finger up her arm. Horror mingled with captivation caused her to shiver.

"He couldn't shoot, even after I told him I had no more bullets." The privateer looked amused. "I told him to avenge his father, to drive his bullet through me skull. But he couldn't. So I left."

The lady frowned. "You left?"

The dark-haired privateer chuckled. "By dawn, both Forster and I were marred in the blood of the Lune Empress' crew. He swore to kill me one day, to bring me to justice. I stayed until dawn, lass, but he still didn't have it in 'im to shoot. At dawn, the Hammer, my new allegiance, appeared. I boarded, lass, and my new crew pillaged the Lune. Link Forster could not budge. I warned him, lass. But he wouldn't go."

The lady said nothing.

"And so," Knil Drake said, "I had the Hammer sink the Lune. I've no bloody idea how the little bugger survived."

The silence after his statement was heavier than she could bear. Tears came forth on the lady's part. For the first time, she wept for another. She wept before the murderer of a hundred.

She felt fear invade her so powerfully that it was dread that crawled in her gut when he smiled lustfully and said, "And now, for my pains, I have right to a reward."

She would have probably fainted again if a sudden loud creaking and shuffling of cloth hadn't called their attention to the stairs. Her head whipped around, and she saw Link Forster descending the steps two by two, turning to glare in their direction as he reached the bottom loudly and angrily.

He stood there, seeing her pale leg bound by the rusting chain, and her dirtied dress and Knil Forster caging her aggressively.

Instantly, his foul mood turned to rage.

In a few strides, he'd moved over to them and roughly grabbed the other privateer's collar.

"Stay away from her," he commanded, almost spitting at the man's face, hardly containing his anger. "If you should not, I will have you executed."

"Will you?" The dark-haired privateer questioned. "I couldn't have gone to her anyhow. She came to me." He said it with a smugness that made Link Forster want to heave him overboard.

Link Forster looked at the lady Zelda Harnian as she unbound her leg and hobbled towards the stairs weakly. He was furious with her as well, but, at her sad gaze, he understood what had driven her here. His heart shuddered.

He dropped Knil Drake's collar, glared at him for good measure then returned to the staircase. He took the lady's shaking arm.

"It was a fair time seeing you, miss," Knil Drake called after her far too joyfully as she carefully climbed the stairs, aided by Link Forster. She looked back but said nothing and smiled none.

The blonde captain-privateer glowered at his smirking prisoner with barely hidden rage.

"I shall deal with you later," Link Forster said, though neither knew if that would be yet another an unfulfilled promise.

Avenge him. Drive a bullet through me skull.

For the first time in his life, Link Forster wished nothing more but to obey Knil Drake's bribes.

Well, it certainly looks like our stubborn and cold lady Zelda is weakening. I'll address this issue in the next chapter, so hold out until then!

Hm. I guess I'm kind of a sucker for Zeldark, and unconsciously too. Oh well. In a way I think it's because Dark Link would be much more entreprising and seductive than silent and honourablegood-boy Linkie. So theoretically Dark Link would for sure get with Zelda faster than Link.

But of course, that's assuming he doesn't terrify Zelda first, which is why she's still hanging on the good side of the good vs. evil coin.

Oh, ignore my ramblings and tell me what you think, okay?

Love,
CM