Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia

Chapter 3

Francis slowly stirred as he sensed the sunlight on his face. Groaning, he cracked one eye open, seeing the curtains in the room were drawn back, and he wondered vaguely if they had been open all night. Slowly, the events of last night came back to him, and Francis smiled to himself as he cuddled into the bed more, before realising that he was alone in the bed.

The Frenchman winced as he slowly sat up, groaning in pain at the abuse his lower half had taken the night before his cerulean gaze drifted around the room. The large hat that had been on the bedpost was gone. The weapons that had been abandoned on the side table were gone. Arthur was gone.

Francis felt his heart plummet as some part of him had always known this would be the result of spending a night with such a notorious pirate, but he hadn't wanted to think about it. Now he wished that he had. Letting out a heavy sigh, Francis slowly dragged himself out of the bed, the pain he felt now mocking him.

Pirates took what they want and left. That was what they did.

That was what Arthur had done.

The tavern owner noticed two things that still remained on the side table. He furrowed his brows as he picked up the delicate gold necklace that Arthur had been wearing the night before, conflicted by it.

He probably just left it behind accidentally.

The Frenchman scowled at the necklace, gripping it in his fist and wanting to throw it across the room. But instead he loosened his grip, before fastening the necklace around his own neck, though he didn't want to admit why.

The second item was a purse of gold coins – more than Francis' meagre tavern would make in a year – but it seemed to him like the sort of payment given to a whore after a night of sex.

Francis clenched his fists, angered by the gift as he only viewed it as an insult.

How dare he?!

Francis fell back against the bed, bursting into tears. He hated that he had already fallen for such a horrible man, but that's what pirates did.

They took what they wanted, and Francis' heart was no exception to that.

XxX

Arthur scanned over the charts on his desk, but his mind was not focused on them. Instead his thoughts were of the gentle touch of a Frenchman, and the delicious moans that Arthur himself had caused him to let out. The Captain frowned, forcing himself to be more attentive to the charts, but his heart was heavy from leaving Calais.

In fact, ever since he had left the warmth of the bed he had shared with Francis, his heart had ached. So much so that Arthur had left his mother's necklace for the Frenchman to keep, and a purse of coinage that would surely help Francis keep his tavern from falling to pieces.

He regretted not saying goodbye to him, but then again he had never even thought twice about leaving his bed-mate before they woke up. But Francis was different, because he wasn't just a bed-mate.

Yes, he was. That's all he was.

Still, Arthur's denial was weak in comparison to the insistence of his treacherous heart. The Captain took a swig from the bottle of rum that sat on his desk, hoping the alcohol would numb his mind to how much he wanted to be with Francis again.

After a few more minutes of trying in vain to focus his mind on anything other than beautiful blue eyes and soft, unblemished skin, Arthur gave up, deciding some sea air would soon clear the frog from his mind.

His leather boots clacked on the creaking wooden steps as the pirate made his way up onto the deck of The Bloody Rose, donned in his scarlet coat and large hat as he always was. His notorious crew were idly tending to the ship, as the waters were calm and they did not have to wrestle with a storm to stay on course. The evening sky was clear, and Arthur's footsteps stilled as he reached the bow of the ship, his gaze studying the smooth, shimmering waters that awaited them on their course to Spain.

He gave a silent sigh, propping his elbows on the side of the ship and gazing out at the sea. It was no use; the Englishman's mind flooded with thoughts of Francis again, and he wondered what the Frenchman might be doing at this very moment. He imagined the tavern owner serving drinks and sharing laughter with some regulars he may have.

Arthur frowned as he realised Francis probably hadn't given him a second thought since the pirate had left, and that thought tugged on his heart the most. The Captain wanted Francis to be pining over him, as doubtless the many other men and women he had visited for the night did. But he had never thought he would be the one pining.

"Captain!" Came an intrusive shout from the crow's nest, tearing Arthur from his ponderings over his beloved Frenchman.

"What?" he growled, more than perturbed as he secretly loved having Francis devour his mind and very soul.

"On the horizon, sir!"

Arthur followed the frantic pointing of the pirate perched higher than him, fishing in his coat for the spyglass. He almost feared he had misplaced his treasured item, before his rough hands clasped the polished wood and a small smirk graced his lips. He raised his spyglass to the level of his eye, peering through it in the direction the pirate wildly gestured towards.

As promised, there was something on the horizon. A large ship, although it looked incredibly small at a distance, but Arthur knew better. He knew the shape of the vessel and the colour of its sails; The Esmerelda.

"Well, well…" he smirked, lowering the spyglass. "It seems we have to endure the company of Captain Carriedo on this fine morning."

He raised his voice, alerting the crew to his incoming orders. "Ready the cannons!"

The command carried, rippling throughout the crew who repeated the instruction until every crew member understood. They sprang into action, preparing to engage the Spanish crew of the rival ship.

Arthur smirked, observing as the Spanish ship quickly came within range of The Bloody Rose's fierce cannons. Arthur's vessel was smaller but faster than the Spanish ship, and his crew were well-experienced in manoeuvring the modest English ship in combat. A smaller, rapidly moving target was harder to fight or land blows upon, giving The Bloody Rose a significant advantage. However, The Esmerelda was large and powerful, and the fire of her cannons could easily rupture The Bloody Rose if caught in the onslaught.

The Esmerelda was much closer to them now, so close that Arthur could spot Captain Carriedo shouting his own orders in his foreign tongue. The ships were soon upon each other, cannons firing and then swords clashing as the pirates swung over on ropes to board the enemy ships. Arthur grinned, drawing his own sword and gripping a thick rope, swinging over to The Esmerelda with the grace and elegance of a respectable Captain.

His boots clapped against the Spanish deck as he landed smoothly, his undying smirk as crooked as his hat.

"Captain Kirkland~" the man who stood before him studied him with olive-green eyes, and a smirk that equalled Arthur's own.

"Captain Carriedo." Arthur returned cordially, amused at how civil they could be to each other just before they would try to maim and kill the other Captain.

"I must say, I was surprised to see you in Spanish waters, amigo." Captain Carriedo grinned, on no level being sincere when addressing Arthur as his friend.

"We were simply passing through…" The English Captain's tone was almost mocking, as if chastising the Spaniard. "It is impolite to stick your nose into other people's business, Antonio."

"And where were you coming from to be 'passing through'?" Antonio's grin was cunning. "And what havoc were you reaping in French waters?"

Arthur's sly grin did not falter. "None that would concern you." Francis flashed in his mind again, and his expression unknowingly softened the slightest bit. It wasn't much, but Antonio noticed it. It was the look of someone in love. The Spanish Captain recognised the look all too well.

However, the Spaniard didn't have time to dwell on the matter properly as members of his crew and Arthur's clashed swords, and soon the Captains followed suit, engaging in their own battle.

Both the Englishman and the Spaniard were skilled in swordsmanship, and each met the other's moves expertly. Antonio engaged Arthur in a tango of elaborate footwork and swift parries, and Arthur proved to be a more than worthy adversary. The two pirates were equalled in their skills and reputation, which was the main reason why they could not stand each other. Both strived to be the most feared Captain to sail the seven seas, but it was impossible while both of them still breathed the salty air.

Arthur grit his teeth as he blocked a potentially lethal blow, and Antonio grinned as he loved the adrenaline that coursed through them. The Spanish Captain managed to slice Arthur's arm slightly, but it was only a shallow cut, and in return the English Captain scratched Antonio's cheek so quickly that the Spaniard did not register any pain, unaware of his bleeding cheek.

The two would often fight for hours, until they both tired or one of them suffered an injury bad enough to prevent him from continuing. By which point their first mate would intervene to get their Captain to safety before he was finished off.

Arthur smirked as he struck Antonio's side, and the Spanish Captain let out a gasp of shock and pain as he had not realised he had left his side undefended. The Blood Captain grinned darkly as he retracted his sword ready to swing once more, but his blade connected with a smaller but fierce one.

Arthur frowned, turning his attention to what seemed to be a mere cabin boy of Antonio's, with caramel hair and chocolate eyes, and a single unruly curl that bounced atop his head as he parried with the notorious English Captain.

Antonio held his side, staggering slightly as he was losing blood, but seeing Arthur fighting this boy made him grip his sword with a newfound strength, and he lunged at the English Captain, knocking him away from the boy with enough force to unsteady his footing.

As Arthur was getting back to his feet, Antonio turned to the boy, his voice a hiss. "What did I tell you, Lovi? Leave the Captain to me!"

The boy, Lovino, only glared. "If I hadn't saved your ass you would have been fish food!" he snapped, a fire in his eyes but concern in his tone.

Arthur hesitated, noticing the way Antonio's demeanour had changed as soon as he turned to the boy. He was leaning over him slightly, not intimidating him but protecting him, like an older brother…or a lover, perhaps.

Either way, Arthur knew he had caused Antonio enough injury for one day. If he was lucky, gangrene would finish the Spaniard off.

Stepping back aboard his own ship, Arthur observed the Spanish Captain once more, seeing him collapse to his knees and watching as Lovino struggled to heave him back to his feet, slowly and carefully guiding him to Antonio's cabin.

The English Captain smirked to himself at the victory, but his heart panged as he suddenly wished more than anything for Francis to be by his side. The pirate frowned, physically shaking his head of the thought as he stalked back to his own cabin, leaving the crew to dispose of the bodies that had been a result of the two rivals meeting, and soon The Bloody Rose and The Esmerelda parted ways again, no doubt to encounter in different waters on a different day.

A/N: And that's chapter 3!

What did you think of Francis' reaction to waking up alone?

And how do you think Arthur will cope not having Francis with him?

Please review and let me know~

Love you all x