Elena Gilbert
As soon as Damon left, Elena spent her time searching the cabin. For anything she could use to escape, anything she could use as a weapon, or just anything that had the slightest chance of improving her situation. Within the hour, she was done. The cabin was irritatingly small, and devoid of furniture. She started with the bed, but found it bare apart from the sheets and a single lumpy pillow. The chair was small, plain and wooden, and with one glance she knew there was nothing for her there. Perhaps she could raise it and hit someone with it, but it did not look solid, and she felt that it would break apart on the first whack. And that would mean one pirate down, and she didn't even know how many to go. Simply not good enough. Initially, the desk looked to be the most promising. It was littered with paper, and additionally had two drawers on either side. She sat down on the chair (not quite as useless as she thought it was, after all), and started to painstakingly go through every single item on the desk. There was a compass (another potential weapon? maybe, maybe not), and close to hundred different maps. As she flicked through, she saw they were almost all of various seas, across the world. To her embarrassment, she felt a stab of jealousy. Had these pirates really travelled to all these locations? She had never even left England. Oh she could only imagine the places they'd seen, the people they'd met. And instead of using this knowledge to better society in some way, they just spent their time looting and pillaging. She let her hatred of these men fuel her, as she picked up her pace. The left hand side drawers were virtually empty, apart from some medical supplies, and a bottle of rum that was rolling around in the bottom one. In the right side one, there was a plain, black notebook. She paged through, spotting more location names, including some ports she had heard of. It seemed to be a journal, listing ports the ship had visited. There were also some names of people, and she recognized a few to be acquaintances of her fathers. Seems that Caroline had been right, this Damon Salvatore did run in the same circles as her father. She put the journal back, but filed away the location for later. She didn't know quite how she could use it, but it was useful. Because it was information. What had her father always said? Knowledge is power. Maybe using this, together with the maps, she could somehow figure out the ship's location? She'd need some landmarks first though, and gazing out of the window only showed her the beautiful azure shimmer of the seas. Depressing, but beautiful nevertheless. The only other thing she found during her investigation, was a tiny hole in the door, where the wood had become worn. Holding her breath, she pressed one eye to it. She could see the deck of the ship, and multiple members of the crew hurrying back and forth across it. She could hear the low murmurs of conversation, as a few men here and there traded barbs, and she heard the jolly laughter ripple forwards now and again. She counted ten men in front of her, but she was sure there were more. For one, Damon Salvatore was not in this part of the ship. Judging from what she could see, and how big she knew pirate ships to be, she estimated this cabin to be roughly in the middle of the ship, meaning the helm, and Damon, must be somewhere behind her.
She sighed and went back to the bed. She needed to think, and weigh her options. Her first line of thought was about escape, but that didn't last very long. Let's say by some miracle, she was able to get out of this room. She was in the middle of the ocean. Where could she go from here? Not to mention the 10+ pirates that were waiting outside this cabin for her. Even if she were able to find a decent weapon, that she was somehow able to wield, she was not trained in fighting. Maybe using the element of surprise, she could take down one, or even two, men. But there was simply no way she could take down ten. And even if she executed this plan in the night, when most of the men were asleep, the noise from any fighting would invariably wake the others. It was just not tenable.
This left her with only one other option. Bide her time, gather information, and wait for a better escape opportunity to present itself. Information. What did she know, that they didn't? There were two things she could think of, off the top of her head. One was that her mother was out of town, so their ransom plan was not going to go as they expected. Her mother was not expected to return home for at least a few weeks, and even then, it would take her time to gather the funds needed. Caroline was at home, and would hopefully find the ransom note, but she had no money either. Maybe some minor savings from working as a barmaid, but definitely nowhere near enough the amount she was sure the pirates had asked for. So most likely, the pirates would need to keep her as a hostage for longer than they had expected. She didn't yet see how this information was of advantage to her though, so she filed it away for now.
The second piece of information was the big one. Her father. She was ninety percent sure they had no idea who her father was. Of course there was always a chance they did know, and that fact had fueled their decision to kidnap her, but somehow she didn't think so. It didn't tally with what she knew, with what Caroline had told her. Damon Salvatore was her father's right hand, the Pirate Prince to Hook's Pirate King. He was in line to take over when her father died, so what possible motive would he have for kidnapping her? He'd earn Hook's ire, and there was nothing for him to gain from that, only to lose. So assuming they did not know, and she just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, could this information help her? Possibly, if they realized they didn't want to risk Hook's wrath, maybe they would simply drop her back home, and pretend it never happened. But that was if they even believed her, and that was a big if. She and her mother had broken all contact with her father when Elena was a young child. It was likely that Hook had kept her identity a secret, if people even knew he had a daughter at all. Additionally if they did believe her, there's a chance it wouldn't go as she hoped anyway. What if they thought she would tell her father everything, and fearing their lives if Hook were to find out, they decided to silence her permanently? She shuddered at the thought. No, she couldn't tell them anything. She would find another way out of this mess.
The next few days passed extremely slowly. Damon never returned, and instead, an older gentleman brought her meals throughout the day. From what she could see through her little spy hole, this man seemed to be in charge of most of the crew, possibly Damon's second-in-command? Initially she was cold towards him, her ingrained hatred of pirates manifesting itself. However he spoke kindly to her, and his eyes radiated warmth, she couldn't deny it. He also sat with her sometimes, while she ate, telling her stories of his time at sea. She learnt his name was Billy, and rather than a second-in-command, he was more of a father figure towards Damon. He had basically raised him, and now accompanied him on his adventures at sea. She listened quietly while he spoke, telling herself it was because she was gathering information, but she hated to admit, she also just enjoyed the sound of his voice; it was soothing. It reminded of her when her father used to tell her stories at night, back when he was still in their lives. She hadn't realized how much truth there was to his stories then. She realized something else too. Biding her time was a fine plan, but she needed to do it outside of this room. If an opportunity were to present itself, it would be outside on the deck, not inside this cabin. Another thing was that she would need to start pretending to be friendlier. Acting cold and distant would get her nothing. If she wanted information, she would need to play along and get them to relax around her, get them to open up to her.
On the third night, she awoke in the night with a start. She stayed still in bed, kept her eyes closed, and concentrated. The air in the room seemed heavier, as if there was another presence there. She held her breath and tried to stay as still as possible. After a couple of seconds, she could hear it, breathing. Her heart beat fearfully, and she clenched her fists under the sheets. Who was it?
"I know you're awake…" A voice came out of the darkness, and she shivered. She heard the hiss of a match, and the candle was lit, casting eerie shadows around the cabin. She sat up straight, and scooted back into the wall next to the bed, pulling the sheets up around her. With the light from the candle, she could see the man's face now. He had thick bushy eyebrows, and a beard to match. His skin was worn and rough, as if he'd spent many years of his life with the sea wind beating at his face. There was a light flickering in his eyes, she couldn't tell if it was because of the candle, but she didn't like the look of it all the same.
"Who-who are you?" She managed to stammer out, and then admonished herself. Calm, she needed to remain calm.
"Me name's Grip. You're here cos of me, y'know. Should be thanking me." He took a step forward and his mouth twisted. It took her a few seconds to realize he was attempting to smile.
Elena had no idea what time it was, but she felt it was late. It was pitch black outside the window, and the ship was deathly silent, apart from the sound of the waves hitting up against the sides of the ship.
"How did you get in here? The door was locked." Elena asked, her voice staying steady this time. She needed to keep him talking, anything to distract him, stop him coming closer.
"Nicked the key, didn't I." He grinned, looking proud of himself, and to Elena's discomfort, took another step closer. He lifted a finger, and she tried to move backwards, away from him. But her back was against the wall, quite literally. There was nowhere else to go. Behind him, she could see he had left the door to the cabin open, and it was swinging in the wind. She could hear the light thud now, as it repetitively hit the wall. She felt a light breeze tickle her. Freedom, it seemed so close. But he was blocking the way to the door and she couldn't see a way around. His finger came up to her face, and he ran it down her cheek. His nail was long, and dirty, and she winced as she felt it draw blood.
"Whoops." Grip muttered, and withdrew his hand. "Forgot your skin was so delicate, princess." He spat the last word out, condescendingly.
"Why are you here?" Elena whispered, as she felt a droplet of warm blood run down her cheek.
"Dunno why Cap'n keeps you locked up in here, in his cabin. Keeping all the fun for himself, I wanted to have my turn." Grip snarled, and Elena's heartbeat rocketed. She was truly terrified.
Knowing she had to try everything she could, she kicked out hard with her foot, making contact with his nether regions. He grunted in pain, and moved backwards, giving her the space she needed. She leapt from the bed, squeezed past him, and was halfway out of the door, when she felt him grab her arms and pull her back into him. She felt his hot breath in her ear, as he whispered menacingly. "Now that wasn't very nice, was it?"
He turned her, and started to push her back towards the bed, as she struggled. Suddenly, she felt him let go, and she whirled, so as not to have her back towards him. She saw another dark figure grab the man by his collar, and drag him outside the cabin. She hesitated for a second, before following the two out. Fortunately the moon was almost full tonight, and the deck of the ship was well lit in the moonlight, so she could see her savior.
Damon's eyes flashed with fury, as he turned and threw Grip to the ground, so that he was standing in between Grip and Elena.
"How dare you?" Damon hissed, his voice almost shaking with anger.
Elena stood still, unable to move, watching the scene unfold in front of her. It was funny how just in a matter of seconds, the situation had changed so dramatically. Now it was Grip's turn to shake with fear.
"Cap'n! I-I-I was just playing around." He stuttered, looking up fearfully.
Damon reached down and pulled Grip up by the scruff of his neck, so he was standing again. His arm moved so fast that Elena almost missed the punch, but she heard the loud crack of Grip's nose, and saw as blood started pouring down, over his mouth. The force of the punch caused Grip to lose his balance, and he crashed back to the ground. The noises must have started to waken the rest of the crew, and Elena saw some of them start to come up, from the lower deck where they must have been sleeping. Their eyes were bleary, as they looked from Elena, to Damon, to Grip, confusedly. Elena saw Billy come up too; unlike the others he seemed immediately alert. The sight of him caused her breathing to settle somewhat.
"Did I say you could enter my cabin? Did I say you could touch her?" Damon's voice thundered across the deck, and some of the crew seemed to wake up a bit more. They could tell something serious was happening.
"She-she's just a hostage. I thought I could-" Grip whispered half-heartedly, as if he was already giving up.
"You thought wrong." Damon's voice had come down to a deathly hiss. He hauled Grip up again, and pushed him against the side of the ship. In the blink of an eye, he had a dagger up against Grip's neck. "This is my ship, and she is a guest here. Without my permission, nobody touches her, nobody speaks to her, nobody even looks at her, do I make myself clear?"
Grip looked pleadingly at the rest of the crew, but when he realized he was getting no help, he nodded quickly. "Aye, cap'n."
Damon shook his head. "I wasn't talking to you, this doesn't really apply to you anymore." Keeping his dagger pressed into Grip's neck, he twisted to look over his shoulder at the remainder of his crew.
"Do I make myself clear?" He repeated, slowly.
"Aye aye, captain." The men chorused quickly.
Billy took a step forwards. "Damon-" He started, but Damon cut him off. "Don't, Billy. I have to do this."
Damon removed the dagger, and started pulling him across the ship, to the other side.
"Damon, Damon, please, no. I swear, it won't happen again. Never again." Grip begged, and Elena could see the fear in his eyes. Yet she felt no sympathy.
"I warned you last time. Now there's nothing I can do for you." Damon said, matter-of-factly. He shoved him forwards, then took a step back. Withdrawing his sword in one smooth motion, he pointed at Grip, and then to the side of this ship. "Get on."
With a start, Elena could suddenly see what was happening. Damon was pointing to a plank. He intended to kill Grip. She felt she should move, say something, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She was frozen.
Grip once again looked at the rest of the crew. "Say something!" He yelled, but nobody spoke. Not even Billy this time.
Realization dawned on him, as he understood there was no way out, and his shoulders seemed to straighten. He turned back to the plank, and pulled himself up on it. It was over in a matter of seconds. Damon turned back to his crew. "Back to bed, men. Elena Gilbert, come." He strode briskly into his cabin, and the rest of the men started to return slowly to the lower deck. After the events of the night, Elena didn't have it in her to make a snarky comment, so she followed behind Damon, back into the cabin.
He was standing at the desk, with his back to her, his shoulders still trembling with anger. Not sure what she should do, or say, she sat back down on the bed, as her heartrate returned to resting. After a few minutes, he turned, the medical supplies she had seen earlier in his hand, and sat down on the bed next to her. She resisted the urge to move away, and sat quietly as he cleaned the remaining blood on her face, with surprising gentleness. He applied the bandage, and then stood up as if to leave, before sitting back down again.
"I apologize." He said quietly, catching her by surprise. Out of everything she had expected him to say, this was not one of them. "And I swear to you this; while you remain on my ship, nobody will lay a finger on you ever again. I will protect you as I do my own crew, and make sure no harm befalls you, before we reunite you with your family."
He reached out a hand, thought better of it, then stood up abruptly and left. She noticed he didn't lock the cabin door this time, but she didn't have the mental energy to do anything about that. Instead she sank back into the bed, in a whirl of confusion. Everything she had ever known about pirates had been horrific; they were vile, brutal, ruthless. Everything Grip had just been. Yet in the past few minutes, Damon Salvatore had displayed qualities she had not thought pirates were even capable of. He had been gentle, he had been kind, he had shown some moral integrity.
She brushed away the thoughts. So what if some pirates were different to others? That was to be expected after all, just look at Billy. But it didn't change who they were fundamentally at their core. Elena's father was Pirate King, and she knew of the horrific acts he had committed to reach that position. Damon Salvatore was his prince, so she had to remember he must have undertaken similar deeds too. One act of kindness did not change anything. She still felt her deep-rooted hatred of pirates, and she still needed to escape this ship. And if anything was to be taken from this night, it was that she had achieved the first step in her plan. The cabin door was unlocked, and Damon didn't strike her as the type to make mistakes. It appeared she was to be allowed out of this room from now on.
Thanks for reading! Please review, would love to know if people are reading and liking. It's been mainly scene setting for now, but things will start to pick up from next chapter!