O grito das gaivotas
(The cry of seagulls)
Chapter Um
Song : Gaivota by Amalia Rodrigues
As João played the small guitar he had brought with him from his country, Arthur stood by, back against the wooden railing. He studied him in the dark of the night, too far for his friend to notice his presence. Too quiet to break his concentration. He was playing with the wind as the ship moved slowly over the Atlantic. No land to be seen in sight and the seagulls were quiet. Barely any clouds hid the skies of their stars. The moonlight acted like a spotlight for the lone musician and that was the only light Arthur needed to admire him. The brown hair held back into a low ponytail with a red ribbon seemed so luscious in the light. Even though his chest was mostly covered by his ruffled white poet blouse, the brit could still see through it thanks to the angle he was sitting in. His closed eyes revealed long healthy eyelashes and a peaceful expression. His boots were loosely tied up since there were no signs of threat. And that always seemed to make Arthur smile. The portuguese were always so laid-back, though never to be underestimated.
João was too beautiful to disturb… But it had to be done.
"João-"
Right as Arthur decided to speak up, João began to sing a song he'd heard before. His deep, gentle voice stopped the Englishman in his steps. Almost regretting his next move. He bit the inside of his cheek in a painful attempt to get the singer's attention. His equally 'fluffy' blouse waving in the wind with every step he took. His brown boots making tap dancing noises with the music. João knew his friend was joining him. His lips grew upwards.
"João. I need to speak with you." He finally muttered out. Hesitation tinted his voice, but his words stayed strong. His presence always intimidated the other crewmates, and enemies, though it never bothered the captain.
"Hm?" The other didn't stand from the chair he had claimed as his own earlier to play his song. He simply raised his head with a bright smile to meet a pair of emerald eyes. His fingers kept dancing across the instrument, never once missing a note.
"It's important."
"I'm listening~"
Arthur took a deep breath, closing his eyes, doing his best not to explode at his friend over the music. It was after all calming. João was talented and Arthur had admitted to loving his music in the past. His shoulders fell in defeat, crossing his arms in the process.
"I'm leaving. As soon as we go back to Europe I-... Someone offered me a job I simply cannot refuse."
The brit kept his serious stare on João. Something was missing. Actually everything was missing. Brown eyebrows rose up for a second, dark green eyes hinted pain and the sound of silence consumed them.
"I won't be coming back after this trip, is what I'm trying to say." Arthur looked away from João. His fading smile was making the brit nauseous- an unfamiliar feeling.
"Ah, I see. So what you're trying to say is…"
"This is goodbye."
João pierced Arthur's distance gaze deeper, letting an uncomfortable silence weigh on both of them. Kirkland cringed at his quick reply. He should have let his crewmate finish his own sentence, he thought. Now it felt as if he couldn't wait to get away from him.
But…
"...I'm happy you came to tell me."
João knew better than to be angry with his friend. He forced a bright smile to comfort Arthur, though, little did he know, this would only make things worse.
"Don't do that." He ditched the soft tone. "I know you're not."
João swallowed back an answer that could potentially hurt Arthur, going back to playing a different tune. A tune a little more agitated.
"So that's your response? You're just going to sing and play your dumb little instrument?" These questions were rhetorical, of course, but he still waited for him to say something nonetheless. "Fine. Play all night for all I bloody care. I'll be packing." The one and only Englishman turned on his heels and walked away, never looking back. He wasn't sure why he got so heated, he didn't exactly yell at him either. But he was sure his message was made clear.
João missed a note. His frustration was showing in his voice. Though the lyrics of the song meant heartbreak and only Arthur wouldn't know what it meant.
As the night continued, the two regretted their conversation, but never admitted it to each other.
Flashback
"Capitão! Alguém está na água! Homem ao mar! (Captain! Someone is in the water! Man overboard!)" A crew member screamed for the captain to come out.
"Homem ao mar!" Another yelled before the captain came out of his room.
The crew members were trying to throw a rope at the man in the water, but he was unconscious, floating over the water on a piece of wood from the sunken ship. Shirtless, missing one boot and wearing ripped trousers, the crewmates thought he was a prisoner-and they would be right. They yelled for him to wake up until one of them jumped off the ship to save the man from possibly drowning. His hat was left on deck, alarming the crew members that it was the captain who dived into the water.
"Capitão!"
Immediately after recovering the stranger, he grabbed onto the rope with all his strength and let his crew heave them up. Not a minute passed when they finally reached the decks and the captain's reflex was to check for a pulse. It was faint, but he was still breathing. With a breath of relief, he sat back next to the stranger. He wasn't sure if this was a trap set up by the Spaniards or even the French, but his instincts kicked in and felt as if he had to save this man. Something about him… He couldn't tell what it was, but it was like the world was telling him they were meant to meet.
"...Britânico? (British?)" He whispered after studying him a little more. The man seemed to be of british descendants. The captain took the man in his arms and walked through the crowd of pirates to place him in his private study to care for the Englishman.
When the doors behind him were closed and the man was laying on his bed, he stood by watching him, frowning. "Tell me… What happened to you..?"
What's your story, pessoa ingles?
As the sun rose, neither Arthur nor João were able to sleep. Their stubbornness would be their worst enemy. That was until a Spanish ship was spotted.
The Portuguese started to warn the rest of the crew about the spanish ship with success. Everyone ran up to the decks, along with Arthur, getting their weapons and preparing for war. Shots were fired, some were hit, others didn't stop until they saw death. It was getting bloody and Joao had to lead them to safety. Though, the Spaniards would not let them. They were too close.
"Espere! (Hold on!)" João exclaimed as the enemy ship collided with theirs. This caused turbulence on deck and nearly everyone fell back, except Arthur who was determined to kill every single one of them. The Spanish were not his favourite, though the reason why was still a mystery to João.
Arthur was successfully able to take down moving sailors as if it was target practice. His skills impressed the crew and inspired them to go on. As they joined forces, the captain had no choice but to let go of his ship since they were unable to move and started firing at the enemy.
"I'm going in!" Kirkland grabbed at the shrouds calling out to João who was up on the quarterdeck. He didn't let his captain stop him before swinging himself off from the ship, jumping sword first into battle on the enemy deck. With an ominous smile, Arthur didn't take long to kill the remaining crew with the help of Joao's shooters.
"Idiota. Ele vai se matar! (Idiot. He'll get himself killed!)" He muttered to himself with immense irritation. João copied his Englishman, accompanying him on board.
Although, he had already conquered the ship. Single handedly. João was left impressed, though his expression showed more shock. A deep breath escaped him.
"Por favor, refrain from being reckless like this again? É?" The captain put his sword back in its sheath with a chuckle.
"I can handle myself fine. A thank you would be nice once in a while." He gave João his usual grumpy, arrogant glare just like when he's trying to avoid the bigger picture. Especially when he was hoping he wouldn't have to talk to him until they got back to Europe. He let down his guard, feeling a pain in his arm.
"Ehm, you're bleeding…"
"A- Fack meh!" He looked over to his injury with much frustration. "I hope there's bloody rhum on this godforsaken ship!" He stomped his way around the ship to look for gunpowder and luckily alcohol. Never letting anyone touch his arm whatsoever. His friend tried to approach him about it only to be met with a growl.
"It'll get infected, just let me help-"
"No."
João had no choice but to leave him alone, much to his disapproval. Again, his concern was showing how he really felt about Arthur. He was beginning to feel uneasy. Arthur might be more unstable than he thought.
This went on for half a day, after putting down the anchor to loot the enemy ship, finding out that it was simply a merchant ship bringing back spices and gold to Spain. They were scared to have randomly sailed in the way of pirates which caused them to attack. It was self-defense.
João was caught thinking about that in his study. Contemplating whether maybe they shouldn't have been so merciless. His crew would argue that they attacked first even though, technically, João alarmed them. And then, Arthur… He would have said something like "It was a necessary sacrifice." or "They were looking for trouble sailing on dangerous waters like that." The truth is, João himself would have slaughtered them without a second of hesitation. Even as they begged for his mercy. Not because he hated the Spanish… it was business. Nothing personal, he would say.
"Nada pessoal." He raised his bottle of red wine stolen from the enemy ship in the air as Arthur let himself in. "I didn't say you could enter."
"I didn't knock."
The tipsy captain smirked at his response. He leaned back farther into his lake-green pirate coat, ringed fingers supporting his red cheek as he took another sip of what he believed was a spicy wine. His eyes seemed to want to know those all too mysterious emerald ones. He was tired of all those secrets.
"Tell me… Arthur… What's your story?"
"I didn't come here for that." Arthur stayed close to the door.
"Then what did you come here for exactly? I'm getting tired of trying to guess who you are or what you want." His expression darkened into something vile. It was rare to see João like this and Arthur hoped to God it was only because of the alcohol.
"...I came for a drink. With the Capitão. That's all." He raised a brow to see if this would calm his friend. Joao always loved it when he spoke his language, even when it was just a few words. "May I?" He pointed to an empty chair close to João's desk.
He was answered with a nod. Then, poured him a big glass of wine.
"Looking to get me drunk enough to tell you my whole life story?" He chuckled lowly.
"Não. Just enough to get you to loosen up." The Portuguese squinted with malicious intent.
"...Liar." He whispered as he took his first sip. "Hm.. Not bad. I still prefer your wines." He returned the smile to his friend, taking another, larger sip.
Flashback
The sound of shuffling sheets were heard as the captain went through some papers and letters. The Englishman was awake. Confused and a bit on edge he stood up, ignoring waves of pain going through his head. João rushed over to stop him, leaving his coat and weapons behind him where papers fell to the floor. The stranger stumbled on the ground in pain.
"Stay away!" He tried to push the pirate, but Joao took a step back from him. He was never concerned for strangers and hoped he was right about him before. João never cared for anyone else but his crew.
So what changed? Why him?
"I said stay away!" He yelled louder, more clearer. But it was useless, he was too weak and the pirate was stubborn.
"Por favor-"
These words made the brit snap and suddenly he was in panic. João had no idea how exactly it happened, but he was on his back face to face with the strawberry-blond stranger on top of him, holding his hands above his head.
"Antonio?! I'll kill you!"
"Wha- I'm not-" João was trying to make sense of the situation.
Who is this Antonio? What happened to him?
"Shut your face! …" The sudden urge to throw up caught Arthur by the throat, letting go of the pirate to hurry towards a corner of the room. The rush of adrenaline mixed with his headache and confusion was spinning his head until-
"...Estranho (stranger). My name is João Henrique Lisboa." He sat up, letting the Englishman spit out whatever fluids he needed to get rid of. "I mean no harm. Promessa." He insisted that he would not lay a hand on him.
The room wasn't completely quiet since it was filled with Arthur's heavy breathing, though neither of them said anything.
Arthur slowly turned around, whipping his mouth with a shirt sleeve he wasn't wearing when the ship was sinking… he remembered that much at least. He had a long staring moment on his clothes.
"What's this?" His voice was weak, but he was more than capable of killing, that's what his eyes screamed to João.
"You were wet and cold, so I had to clothe you." He answered almost immediately so the stranger would trust him. "Now will you tell me your name?" His eyes were soft, giving Arthur no reason to hate or suspect him. And they weren't the same exact colour as Antonio's. He of all people would know. Maybe he really wasn't him. Not only that, but the ship was different ; lighter coloured wooden floors, a bigger desk with golden decor all around it, the room seemed to be larger than Antonio's private office. There were also a few empty chairs laying around and he was messier than how Antonio kept his office.
"Arthur. Arthur William Kirkland." He was still extremely cautious and hesitant, but too weak to keep his guard up so much. Besides, he didn't remember Antonio having a beauty mark under his right eye. "That… That language... it's not spanish is it?" He was almost embarrassed to ask. He knew what spanish sounded like. He had been around Spain so many times- too many times.
João laughed a little. "Não. I'm portuguese." He helped himself up and slowly forwarded to Arthur. "Por- Please, let me help you sit you back down."
"I can do it myself." The brit growled at the other as a warning to stay away.
"Alright. We are all friends here. You can trust me." He waved his hands besides his head to show he was unarmed. He stayed away from the other and waited for him to sit down.
"We're nothing of the sort. Don't make me laugh." But he did laugh. Painfully, but still chuckled.
"Good to know you're healthy."
"..." He shot a glare at the captain. "What about you? Who the bloody hell are you?" Arthur might've been in better health than when he was found but he was still clinging to his stomach and struggling with his words.
"I told you-"
"No, I mean, what the fuck are you, like some kind of conqueror? or-" His tired eyes wandered around the room to find a few hints. "...a pirate." He snickered as if he lost a game of cards where he bet his fortune.
"Sim."
"I'm fucked." He began to laugh a little louder, now thinking he hadn't escaped his nightmare just yet. Maybe it was worse now. "And I thought things couldn't get any worse."
"I promised I wouldn't hurt you, didn't I?" João was beginning to feel confused again.
Should he be anymore concerned?
"You're a pirate. How could you not hurt me?" He furrowed his brows looking deep into the captain's dark green eyes.
"Not all pirates are evil spawns of hell, Arthur." His head did how a puppy would beg for food, adding a smile for effect.
"..." The brit took a moment longer to study him and found no threat in the man. "...Fine." He looked away, mouth pouting. "If you're not going to hurt me, then why did you save me? How is this going to benefit you?" He crossed his arms, the feeling of nausea coming back as he was relaxing.
Now, João was truly unsure how to answer his questions. "I have absolutely no ill intentions to save you. I just… Can we talk about how exactly you got into this situation?"
"I-... prefer not." His gaze hurried away and his body tensed up. He was trying his best to forget what had happened.
The Iberian opened his mouth to try to say something, but quickly closed it. His soul was weeping for him to shut up. Let the pour man be, he thought. He instead breathed through his nose, letting go of all his thoughts and walked back to his desk. "You should get some rest then. It was probably hard on you, all that… stuff that happened. I'll wake you up tomorrow first thing." His words caught Arthur's attention.
"For what?"
"Practice."
End chapter.
A/N : I'm open for honest, brutal but constructive criticism. I won't be offended if you didn't like the story! I'm not here to please everyone and I know I can't, so I'm just hoping that some of you will like it! I haven't posted here in literally years, so please don't look at my old work I write better now... Anyway, tell me what you think in the comments and I will improve in the next chapters if I need to! Thank you for reading and hopefully the next one will be just as good!
Inspiration came from on instagram!