Hey, just a quick notice: Chiara and the Rose is moving to Archive of Our Own, because the rating is going up next chapter and I'd rather not cut out parts of the story. I'm under the same name, LegionnaireLovi.

Thanks for reading, hope to see you there!

Arthur laughed lightheartedly as Matthew reached far and jabbed weakly, parrying the jab easily as he sidestepped Alfred's aggressive thrust, blade singing. Re-aligning himself swiftly, he countered Alfred's attempt to continue his momentum, parrying quickly and close to his body as the younger man advanced with determination and drove him slowly to the railing. Suddenly, Arthur interrupted a parry to tilt his cavalry saber almost vertical and twist the blade down with a practiced force.

Alfred flinched in surprise as his rapier flew from his hands and clattered uselessly onto the deck, kicked out of reach by Arthur as he blocked Matthew's calculated slash and returned the attack lightly, unable to keep a carefree grin off his face. When Matthew's broadsword fell to the deck as well, Arthur laughed breathlessly, removing his hat to run a hand through his messy hair.

"You've both been practicing!"

Alfred groaned as he retrieved his rapier. "I'm hungry…"

Matthew shrugged, sheathing his own weapon. "Didn't we just eat?"

"Yeah, but I—"

A cry came from the crow's nest. "PIRATES! PIRATES SIGHTED!"

"Oh, fuck!"

"Alfred!"

The deck was a flurry of motion as the crew rushed to their positions, awaiting orders. The sailing master shouted above the noise, cupping his hands around his mouth as Arthur marched briskly up to the quarter deck and accepted a spyglass from Paulo.

Arthur stood beside his first mate and sailing master, arms crossed, assessing the situation. A sharp look send Alfred and Matthew scurrying out of the way of a couple of rushing crew members, and into the path of another. Alfred squeaked as the towering, swarthy carpenter grabbed onto an arm each, roughly collecting both the twins and marching them to the captain's quarters.

As the carpenter shut the door securely behind them, he turned to the twins and grinned toothily. "Aw...ya poor little ankle biters, you're scared shitless! Don't worry, they're not even close enough to fire warning shots! Probably didn't even think we'd spot 'em so quick."

Alfred cleared his throat and stuck out his hand, voice gruff and formal and an octave lower than usual. "Alfred. Pleased to make your acquaintance." The carpenter clapped their hands together and shook vigorously. "Jett! So nice to finally meet Arthur's boys! Y'look just like cute little mini-Arthurs!"

Alfred squawked indignantly. "We're the same height as him!"

Matthew chimed in helpfully. "Last I checked, we were a quarter of an inch taller."

Jett waved his large, tanned hands in front of him in apology. "Sorry, my mistake." He drew a pouch from the pocket of his rough, canvas pants and produced a couple cookies, crumbling slightly at the edges, and holding them out as if they were olive branches. "Bikkie?"

Matthew sighed and accepted a cookie, tugging on the glowering Alfred's sleeve to do the same.

Dylan glanced out of the window of the captain's cabin at the distant ship in pursuit. "Jackdaw…if they catch us it'll be a hell of a fight."

"There won't be any fighting. We can escape under cover of darkness. The sun has almost set, we've put some good distance between us, and the wind is strong."

His sailing master nodded in concentration, pressing his knuckles to his lips. "Though if they do make it in range…?"

"Give 'em hell. Under no circumstances do they board the Rose. We absolutely cannot allow that to happen, no matter how difficult the battle." Arthur smoothed his lapels, hand hovering half a second too long over the left side, a little under the shoulder, before he straightened his hat and cleared his throat. "However, I have the utmost faith in your ability to out-sail the bastards, so I've no worries. You got any?"

"None. How are the lads?"

"Fine, Jett's teaching them to climb the rigging."

"And Beth?"

"She's fine. She's, uh, she's found a new bloke. A writer."

Dylan hummed sympathetically, patting Arthur on the back. He responded gently. "Good for her."

Arthur cleared his throat loudly. "Yes, yes of course! I just—I'm glad someone's there for the boys, along with Beth." He finished awkwardly, voice cracking almost imperceptibly as Dylan pulled him into a bear hug.

"Aw, Artie, I'm sorry me an' Alley weren't there…"

Arthur sniffed, shaking his head. "It's okay. Everything turned out pretty well, all things considered. Besides, Alley—" he hiccoughed. "Alley probably would've been a terrible influence," Dylan nodded in agreement as Arthur continued. "and you both had your own problems."

Suddenly the door burst open, Alastair charging in and piling onto the hug. "I heard my name!"

Arthur, somewhat muffled, sighed and noted dryly, as Alastair ground into his scalp with his knuckles, "So you were listening outside the door? Oof!" The group hug sagged and fell to the floor under the added weight of a fourth person.

Dylan smiled bemusedly. "Sean?"

Arthur's voice came muffled from under the pile. "Cheers Sean."

"Sean! Glad ya joined the party, yeh fat feckin' bampot!"

The youngest man hollered into the pile. "I'm not fat! Yer a feckin' booze-guzzlin' eejit!"

"Coulda fooled me, bangin' aboot the kitchen all feckin' day, yeh feckin' Jessie!"

"Yer for it now!"

The four-brother-pile up on the floor of the captain's cabin quickly escalated into a fistfight, out of which crawled Dylan and Arthur, who snuck off to their respective positions to ensure the Portsmouth Rose wasn't captured by pirates.

"I'd rather not risk it."

Arthur shook his head slowly, jaw clenched and overcoat pulled tightly against the chill. "I agree. We'd be facing the wind, and if we did run into them again, we couldn't outrun them like before. However, I can't bring the lads to the Caribbean."

"Why not?" Paulo traced a route with his index finger, map easily visible in the full moonlight. "This is arduous and we risk more encounters with pirates. We're already roughly here—" He gestured to a general point far off of the coast. "Why not bring the boys with us? We could leave someone to keep them safe in Nassau while we're retrieving the hostage. We'll leave them and their caretaker enough money to live, and to buy passage back across the Atlantic should Carriedo defeat us."

Arthur scratched the stubble on his cheek, groaning. "Beth is gonna kill me, but yes, this works."

"Send her a letter as soon as we make port."

"Yes, yes, the very second."

Paulo grinned softly. "May as well send it now, stick it in a bottle and chuck it overboard."

Arthur smiled tiredly, sparing Paulo a fond look. "May as well."

Paulo swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, the distance between them small as they bent over the makeshift table examining the map, shadows long and deep in the bright moonlight. Arthur was motionless, only bottle green eyes flicking up from the map to rest on the shadow and light that played over Paulo's face. Paulo tilted his head, closing the distance between them by a hair's breadth, questioning cautiously.

"May as well?"

Arthur broke the spell, shaking his head and straightening.

Paulo nodded in assent and avoided Arthur's eyes. He stepped away and hunched over the rail, fingers knitted together, staring out over the waves pensively, muscular form outlined sharply in black shadow and inked in patches with bright, pale light. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked in a time like this."

Arthur smiled wryly, rolling up the map. "I don't blame you. I would've too, had our places been reversed."

Paulo chuckled gently, embarrassed. "Thanks."

"You should know, I do find you devastatingly attractive."

"Do you now?"

"Nothing less than a modern Adonis."

"You charming devil."

Arthur snorted and tucked the map into his coat, doffing his hat. "Goodnight, Adonis. Fare thee well."

Paulo offered a half-smile at the archaic speech. "And thyself, Jason."

"Jason?" Arthur looked back up at him from the bottom of the warped wooden stairs, expression hidden in shadow. "If that be the case, may we seek the Golden Fleece not in vain."

Arthur trudged into the captain's quarters, kicking off his boots and tossing his hat onto the table as he closed the door. He draped his overcoat over the shoulders of a chair and slouched off gratefully to bed without changing into a nightgown.

Unfortunately, as he collapsed into bed, he found it to be much lumpier than usual. He stumbled away, groaning and rubbing the back of his head where a goose egg was sure to form.

"Ow! What the fuck Mattie?" came the sleepy whisper-shout.

"Wasn't me!" came the dragon-like hiss back.

"Then what was it?!"

"I don't know! All I know is I was sleeping here, just minding my own business and you kick me in the knee and blame me for it, eh?"

"That wasn't me either!"

"I don't care what it was! Just go back to sleep, Al!"

At this point, Arthur had seated himself on the chest at the foot of the bed, rubbing his eyes and waiting to be noticed. For a minute, there was silence, disturbed only by the rustling of sheets and a clearing of the throat from one of the boys. Suddenly, one figure sat bolt upright.

"Oh shit, Matt, what if it's pirates?"

The response was strained and sleepy. "Then at least we can have our throats slit while we're still sleeping comfortably."
A brief silence fell again in the room.

"Oh hey Dad, what're you doing here?"

Arthur sighed. "Not sleeping, I can tell you that."

"Dad?"

"Matthew."

"Hey—"

"Alfie?"

"—Dad—?"

"Alfred."

"No, Matthew—"

"One at a time!"

Arthur shook his head at the two figures, both with a hand raised to speak.

"No, me first."

Both hands lowered in disappointment, and Arthur harrumphed.

"We've decided that we have no choice but to bring you along for the remainder of the voyage. But—!" He paused to quiet Alfred and to allow the news to sink in. "You will not participate in any battle. Under any circumstances. Is that understood?" Both heads bobbled in the darkness, and Arthur continued.

"Until we make port in Nassau, you will learn to sail and handle weapons, and various other necessary skills. You will live and work like one of the crew."

Arthur heard an excited sucking in of breath from Alfred and grinned vengefully. "And that starts with sleeping arrangements! Crew sleeps in hammocks below deck, so—" He gleefully yanked the blanket off the boys and shoved them towards the edge of the bed, "Go find yourselves a new bed!"

Alfred scrambled out of bed, protesting. "But it's the middle of the night!" Matthew seemed to agree in the way he rolled back toward the wall, curling up in the absence of a blanket. Arthur sighed and grabbed his ankles, tugging with increasing force as he addressed the indignant Alfred with a thin smile. "Well, to a sailor, midnight—" He grunted. "Can you help me out here? Thank you. Midnight—! Is just another great time to watch out for pirates! Now come on—!" With Alfred's help, he finally managed to pry Matthew's vice grip off of the edge of the bed. "—lad! Off with you!"

The twins slumped out of the captain's cabin grumbling, Alfred shrugging on his jacket and Matthew hopping along spitefully, pulling on his left boot.

"Don't worry, a couple of hammocks will open up in a few hours!"

As the heavy wooden door slammed unnecessarily hard behind them, Arthur settled contentedly into bed.

A lot of the time, merchant ships would obviously try to outrun pirate ships. Normally Arthur would be gunning for the bastards, but his priorities are a little different this time :P

Also, all four countries in the UK are brothers in this fic, Dylan being Wales. Also Jett is Australia, if it wasn't immediately apparent.

So tell me guys, do you like the chapters on alternating ships? Which crew do you like better?