A/N- So I'm super excited to bring you the first official chapter of my brand new adventure story. I haven't written one of these in a while so I'm really eager to know what you guy think. Please read, review, and enjoy!

Twelve Years Later.

The salt tinged air blew Arnold's hair back as he stared longingly at the sea. The sky was a clear, sharp blue and the sun was strong. While he was no longer a little boy, Arnold never forgot his love of the sea. Right now, it lay beneath his balcony, stretching out far to the horizon. During this time of day, it was a light blue grey, with white foam dancing across it in uneven rows. Arnold braced his forearms against the railing and leaned forward. The smell of the sea grew stronger and his shirt began to billow around his legs. Closing his eyes, he could almost imagine himself balancing on the forecastle of a mighty ship, conquering and slicing through the mighty slate blue ocean. Exploring distant lands, unseen by civilized eyes. Arnold, the greatest explorer ever known.

An apologetic cough sounded behind him. Arnold jumped, nearly falling over, and turned around sheepishly. Robert Simmons, his personal manservant, stood by the balcony doors unsuccessfully trying to hold back a smile. Only two decades older than Arnold himself, Robert didn't show his age in his youthful face or ready smiles.

"Breakfast has been ready for quite some time, sir," Robert said mildly, "Shall I have the cook reheat it for you?"

"No, no I'll be right down. Thank you, Robert."

Arnold cast one last longing look at the ocean before turning away and heading back into his room. Robert followed him, closing the balcony doors and effectively shutting out the sounds of the ocean waves. Arnold had just gotten his hand on the bedroom door when Robert gave another quiet cough.

"Um, sir?" Robert nodded, completely failing to hide his amused smile, "you seem to forget that you're a tad… under-dressed."

Arnold glanced down at himself and frowned. His shirt fell nearly to his knees and his thick cotton stockings could nearly pass as pants. Just how was he under-dressed for breakfast?

Robert spoke up as if reading his mind, "Sir, your standing now requires you to wear more… appropriate attire. I can assist you if you wish."

Arnold grimaced and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. By "appropriate" Robert meant "stuffy". Collars, itchy hosiery, stiff waist coats; Arnold had suffered through them all in the past year. The only thing he'd been able put his foot down on was refusing the wig they wanted him to wear. But he had no other choice but to nod and allow Robert to dress him head to toe in a light blue tailored suit. The fine cotton material did nothing to ease the discomfort. Everything was pulled tight, fastened, and straightened out. Robert worked fast, tore a comb through his hair in a vain effort to contain it, and in no less than an hour Arnold was dressed in a way befitting a baronet and newly commissioned governor of Port Hillwood. Both titles he had inherited from a late great uncle on his grandfather's side. Both titles that should have gone to his father…

Arnold's footsteps echoed loudly on the grand staircase in the governor's mansion. His mansion. He absently tugged at the silk cravat around his neck. Was it the knotted silk choking him, or being surrounded by such splendor? Several servants gave him small curtsies as he passed. Arnold felt himself flush and nodded at them absently. A few of them were older than him and yet they were treating him with reverence? His best friend would call him an idiot for not enjoying this, but Arnold hadn't asked for any of this either.

Breakfast was served to him on silver platters by a nervous maid and an even more nervous kitchen boy. Arnold picked over lukewarm oatmeal spread thick with treacle and a plate of left over cold ham. He should have been starving but the tight waist coast coat had a way of suppressing his appetite.

"Um, e-excuse me, sir?"

Arnold looked up to see his kitchen boy giving him a nervous smile. "Yes, Eugene?"

"If you, um, don't like that," Eugene nodded to his breakfast, "I can fix you something else if you like."

"No, no it's great really." To placate him, Arnold took a big spoonful of the oatmeal and was rewarded with Eugene's sigh of relief. When he retreated into the kitchen though, Arnold heard a faint crash and Eugene mumble, "I'm okay".

Arnold smothered a laugh and went back to picking over his food. Boredom was beginning to set in as the maids and servants almost silently went about their work. No one spoke to him outside of a respectful good morning. Arnold didn't have anything to look forward to after breakfast either. Some of the few things on the agenda were scheduling an assembly to go over proposed taxes, studying tax law from the home country, meetings with assembly member individually and something else he forgot but it was probably just as boring. As if he could read Arnold's mind, Robert came in and handed him his leather-bound book where he was supposed to be keeping track of this sort of stuff.

"Thank you, Robert," Arnold murmured halfheartedly, but then perked up, "would you like to join me for breakfast? I know it's against protocol but I could use the company. And you can tell me more about your sailing days."

Robert paused and gave an uneasy laugh. "I'm afraid I've told you too much already sir. Besides, I would hate to breech our social relationship with familiarity since we're not equals."

"I could order you to if that helps." Arnold suggested with a laugh.

Robert gave another pause and briefly looked around as if checking if the coast was clear. Finally, he smiled. "Oh, I suppose I can. But I'll have to clean while I talk. Have I ever told you about my encounter with Flame Beard the pirate?"

"You had an encounter with a pirate?" Arnold echoed wide-eyed.

"Oh yes, when I was around your age I worked for a merchant ship as a navigator." Robert sighed wistfully, "It was such an educational experience. It's how I learned to speak German. One night though, I was awakened by cannon fire. Had they not been warning shots we would have gone down before we knew they were upon us."

"Really?"

"Oh, yes. We were all ordered up on deck while they stripped our ship bare. My friend Peter and I nearly died of fright when we saw Flame Beard himself. Sparks of fire flickered from the midnight curls of his beard. His eyes were red like the devil himself."

"And he let you go?" Arnold pushed his barely touched breakfast aside and leaned forward, "Pirates do that, right? They don't always kill the members of the other ship rumors say do they?"

Robert heaved a dramatic sigh. "Sadly, only a few of us were spared. Many were taken for ransom or prisoner. They were probably made to walk the plank."

Arnold opened his mouth to ask more questions but so many were crowded the forefront of his mind. Robert's stories always had a way of doing that to him. But then a maid entered the dining room saying that someone was at the door for him. Robert immediately switched back to servant mode and got up to receive the guest properly.

"Sir Arnold," Robert came back to the threshold of the room and offered Arnold a small bow, "Mr. Johanssan is here to see you. Should I have him wait in the receiving room or-"

"No, no please show him in here," Arnold interrupted eagerly with a large smile on his face.

Robert left the room with another bow but Arnold was unable to contain his excitement and followed him into the front hall. Gerald Johanssan. His best and only friend in the entire world and he had barely seen him in the past week. Ever since he became midshipman Gerald had been kept just as busy as Arnold, except his job was far less tedious. Robert had just taken his hat and coat and Arnold could see that Gerald was fully dressed in his uniform. Gerald smiled as Arnold approached and looked him up and down with an approving nod.

"I see you're being treated pretty decently," Gerald remarked lightly, completely teasing, "You could use a few more gold buttons on your waistcoat though."

"You are a true comedian sir," Arnold rolled his eyes, "wanna sit down for some breakfast? It's kind of cold but I can have them reheat something for you."

"Well let's see, I've been up since dawn, like most adults-"

"Gerald…"

"So yes, I would love some breakfast." Gerald laughed and clapped Arnold on the back, "what the hell took you so long to get up this time? I stopped by at eight but you were still asleep."

Arnold shrugged off the question and chose to lead Gerald into the informal dining room instead. He didn't want to admit even to Gerald that he had been having the dream again. It was too painful to even think about and he tried very hard to forget it again in the morning. But Gerald seemed to be able to see it on his face because he quickly changed the subject.

"You wouldn't believe the two clowns that just got enlisted," Gerald groaned, "One is a country bumpkin first saw the sea last week. The other thinks that he'll make captain in six months and for some reason that translates into him being a millionaire."

"Are you serious?" Arnold laughed, "are they at least any good to work with?"

"Maybe if they don't trip over themselves every five seconds," Gerald scoffed and gestured for Robert to get him a plate of food. Robert, alert as always, was ready with a full plate and a cup of hot coffee. "But I swear, I'm going to whip those two losers into shape even if it kills them."

"Don't be too hard on them. Maybe if you just talked to them, give them some pointers. You were new too once."

"Christ, I hope I was never as new as them. I want to make Lieutenant commander by the time I'm thirty not eighty."

Arnold chuckled and regarded his best friend. So much had changed in the past decade. Both of them had grown up some, but Gerald still had Arnold beat in the height and muscle department. And there was also an air of confidence about Gerald that Arnold sometimes envied. Gerald knew what he wanted from life and was going after it hard. Suddenly Arnold started laughing causing Gerald to look up with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing, but," Arnold smiled and regarded his best friend, "remember when we were kids. You hated the idea of being in the navy and I wanted to be an explorer. What do you think happened to us?"

Gerald lifted his coffee cup in a mock salute, "We grew up Sir Arnold. We grew up."

Arnold nodded, a heavy feeling starting to weigh down his smile, "Yeah I guess we did."

"One of our vessels thought they spotted a pirate ship today. They didn't get a good look at the flag but they think it may have been black and orange," Gerald's tone became serious and his face darkened, "If you ask me, they should have chased those bloody pirates down and brought their dead bodies back to port so we could hang their corpses."

"That's a little…harsh," Arnold fidgeted in his seat, knowing what he was going to say next could upset Gerald, "I have been thinking a little about my position on piracy, you know as governor, and I was thinking that maybe the current policy might be a little… severe."

There was a small clink and Arnold reluctantly lifted his eyes to see Gerald setting down his cup of coffee and giving a look that made Arnold's blood run cold.

"Are you telling me," Gerald spoke slowly, "that you want to lift our ban on piracy? The crown's ban on piracy?"

"I'm trying to consider Port Hillwood's need for new trade routes," Arnold pleaded, "You know how much we've been struggling this past year. Pirates have sailing and trade experience. If we employ them as privateers instead of just killing them, then maybe we can regain our sea advantage."

Gerald heaved a weary sigh and reached into his jacket pocket. Arnold felt his heart sink. He knew before Gerald even pulled it out what it was. The pocket watch that had once been silver was now a dull gray. A large dent in the front prevented it from closing all the way. And the inside face was cracked, keeping the time forever at eleven o'two.

"Jamie had been so proud of this stupid thing," Gerald mused out loud, "carried it around with him everywhere. He used to tease me about not having one."

Arnold bit his lip, "Gerald I-"

"Sometimes I wondered if he begged for his life before they killed him. I mean, the guy was only sixteen. Sixteen seemed so old to us back then, but he was just a kid, too wasn't he? But it's not like pirates care about that."

"Gerald I'm sorry," Arnold blurted out, "what happened to Jamie- I know it affected you and your family a lot-"

"And it should affect you too, Arnold!" Gerald cried in exasperation, "your parents-"

"We don't know what happened for sure," Arnold cut him off sternly, "but I do know that they wouldn't want me to drive myself crazy trying to find out either."

Gerald narrowed his eyes and held Arnold in an intense gaze for a long moment. But then his features his expression softened and he gave him a sympathetic smile. "You don't ever wonder if they're still out there?"

"I can't afford too." Arnold swallowed thickly, "They sold nearly everything they owned trying to find out what happened. They sold the house to hire ships to find them My grandparents died wondering. They wouldn't want me to do the same."

Gerald nodded and became silent. The distant ticking of the grand clock was the only sound in the room. The coffee and food had undoubtedly grown cold but neither of them moved from the table. Gerald looked deep in thought, absently rubbing his jaw. But Arnold was trying to avoid the day's responsibilities for just a little while longer. Assemblies, meetings, taxes… what was the last thing he was supposed to be doing? Planning for… something…

"So, do I get an invite for tonight or is this one of those exclusive things?" Gerald asked suddenly.

"That's what I'm forgetting!" Arnold grinned and snapped his fingers, "the ball is tonight!"

Gerald gave him a disbelieving look, "You forgot you've been planning a party in your own house?"

"Robert has been taking care of everything for me. You know I have no idea what these people expect from me."

"Well you better learn soon," Gerald chuckled, "Viscount Lloyd and his family are coming. Or did you forget that too?"

"No, I didn't forget." Arnold felt his face grow warm and he tugged nervously at his cravat again. "The Viscount is brokering a marriage between his daughter and me."

Stone cold coffee sprayed out of Gerald's mouth. Robert darted forward from the kitchen with a damp rag ready. Gerald was too busy giving Arnold an incredulous look to notice.

"Um, is there something you forget to tell me, your best friend!?"

Arnold resisted the urge to slouch down in his seat and hide, "I wasn't sure if I was going through with it. We've exchanged a total of three letters before and they sent me a portrait. But her dad has money and connections that Hillwood desperately needs."

"Mmm, mmm, mmm," Gerald shook his head with a small mocking smile, "You poor, poor man. Sacrificing yourself to marry a beautiful, rich woman for the sake of Hillwood. It must be torture being you."

Arnold only huffed and glared down at the table. Of course, he didn't want to marry some stranger just for their money. But his personal happiness wasn't what mattered here. All that mattered was that he took care of Port Hillwood.

The corset dug into her waist but Rhonda learned long ago not to complain. Her personal maid Nadine had laced it tight, but nowhere near as tightly as her mother would have. To distract herself from her discomfort, she chose instead to look out of the carriage window. Pokey little Port Hillwood was already settling down for the night and yet the sun had barely gone down. Unlike Paris where they lit street lamps and dined under the star light.

"Mommy," Rhonda sighed for the umpteenth time, "are you sure that the betrothal to the Earl of Lyon's son really fell through?"

"I'm afraid it did, sweetheart," Lady Lloyd sighed as well, "but the Earl demanded too much for your dowry. Especially considering the unsavory rumors surrounding his own daughter."

Rhonda pouted, "I don't see what her being a whore has to do with me."

"I will not have my youngest daughter's name be sullied even by association!" Lord Lloyd spoke up angrily, "It was costly enough when your sister tried to elope."

"Thank goodness her betrothal was already set." Her mother nodded in agreement with her husband.

Rhonda returned her gaze to the window. At least Arnold was around her age. All seven of her other potential suitors had been at least thirty-five. One had even been fifty. Lady Lloyd sighed (all her mother ever seemed to do was sigh), and shook her head disapprovingly at Rhonda's gown.

"Red, why must you always instead on red?" She lamented, "Why do you never where anything softer like pink or lavender."

"Mommy, I don't even own anything pink or lavender," Rhonda grouched, "I never have and I never will."

"We'll go shopping tomorrow."

"Where? There isn't a single boutique in this port."

"That will all change soon," Her father spoke up suddenly, "Years ago, Port Hillwood had the potential to be the large port on the Mediterranean trade route. And with our financial backing, it could be again!"

"And you'll be the wife of a prospering governor," Her mother encouraged, "Your marriage will save this town and our family from ruin. As long as you can seal the deal."

Both of her parents smiled at her expectantly but Rhonda refused to grace them with a smile in return. She would do her duty as an obedient daughter should, but she wouldn't pretend to be happy about it. When they arrived at the governor's mansion however, she did have to admit it was much better than she had expected it to be. The ball was already well underway, but the Lloyds were always fashionably late. The other guests instantly took notice of them and their apparent status and parted before them. The envious looks from other young ladies told Rhonda that she had chosen her dress well. It was nothing new to her though. Rhonda was born for the world of elegance and beauty, and she had learned how to thrive in it. She only hoped that Port Hillwood and her husband-to-be would be able to keep up with her.

"Are you nervous, man?" Gerald nudged him playfully and winked, "you're meeting your future wife tonight."

"Did you know they're going to be staying here?" Arnold groaned, "They didn't like house we had for them so Robert offered them rooms here instead."

"Well try to contain yourself, tiger."

"Gerald!"

His best friend laughed while Arnold's face heated up. He tried to remind himself to take slow, even breaths. The suit Robert stuffed him in left no room for hyperventilating. All this pomp, elegance, and formality made him nervous and antsy. He had wanted to take one more walk on the beach before the ball but too much still had to be done until the very last minute. And with the Lloyd family staying in the house until who knew how long (his wedding?), there would be no more solitude for a while.

"Heads up," Gerald nudged him again, "here they come."

A sharply dress, perfectly glamorous family was headed straight for them. Arnold plastered a welcoming but cool smile on his face and stepped forward while Gerald melted back.

"Lord Lloyd, Lady Lloyd, welcome," Arnold offered them a straight-backed bow, "It is nice to finally meet you."

"Sir Arnold, a pleasure," Lord Lloyd returned his bow with a respectful nod, "may I introduce our daughter, Miss Rhonda Lloyd?"

Arnold politely turned his gaze to Rhonda who stepped forward and offered him her hand. "Sir, it is… nice to finally meet you in person."

The portrait didn't do her justice, that much was certain. The girl curtseying before him was far more glamorous than the girl in the painting portrayed. Her gaze was as sharp as a hawk's she appraised him from under her dark lashes. Her blood red lips matched her dress and the rubies at her throat.

"The pleasure is mine," Arnold didn't miss a beat as he took her hand and bow his head towards it. He was probably supposed to kiss it, but the glinting ruby ring on her finger looked like it could cut him if he tried.

After they straightened up her parents looked back and forth between them and approval flashed in their eyes.

"We'll just leave you two to get better acquainted then," Lady Lloyd took her husband's arm and before Arnold could stop them, they disappeared in the crowd. An awkward silence stretched between until Arnold heard a small cough behind him.

"Oh! May I introduce you to a friend of mine?" Arnold desperately gestured for Gerald to step up beside him, "Miss Lloyd, this is Mr. Gerald Johanssen."

Rhonda looked mildly annoyed but smiled politely and offered Gerald her hand as well. "Charmed, I'm sure."

"Very charmed indeed," Gerald purred and unlike Arnold didn't hesitate to plant a delicate kiss on her hand, "It is a great and rare opportunity for me to meet such a beautiful lady such as yourself."

At once Rhonda blushed and her smile became a tad more genuine. "Sir, you flatter me."

"And you dazzle this room with your beauty," Gerald flashed her a winning smile, "sadly though, I am unworthy to stay and bask in it so I shall take my leave."

He kissed her hand a final time before flashing Arnold a look and vanishing into the crowd. Arnold wanted to strangle and beg his best friend to stay. He didn't have Gerald smooth talking skills to get him through this uncomfortable situation.

"Your friend is… quite charming," Rhonda giggled.

"Oh, he's charming alright," Arnold laughed nervously, "would you, um, care to dance?"

Rhonda nodded her consent and allowed Arnold to lead her out onto the floor. Arnold was hopeful. Maybe once they both relaxed, they would make small talk and get to know each other better. Rhonda didn't seem so bad. They could easily have some things in common and get along great. And maybe, just maybe, they could even grow to like each other one day. Maybe even love each other….

Arnold held on to that hope as they danced, and talk, danced again, and mingled. And hour by hour that hope diminished. Their conversation remained stilted and formal. He could barely get her to fully smile at him let alone laugh. And she just seemed so shocked (and a bit offended) that he didn't through these parties on a weekly basis. To be frank, Arnold was relieved to turn her back over to her parents at the end of the party and allow Robert to see them to their rooms.

When the last of the help and the guests left, Arnold felt like he could finally breathe. The house was silent as he snuck out and made his way outside. The mansion sat on a cliff overlooking the sea, but with careful climbing Arnold could find a path that led to a small beach underneath. The sound of the waves was soothing as Arnold sat on the cool sand. The waves were nearly invisible in the dark, but he could still feel their power. It was almost ironic. The waves were invisible but powerful and he was visible and powerless. He didn't love his position or his betrothed, but he was irrevocably linked to both. Marrying Rhonda may be Port Hillwood's last hope. And Port Hillwood needed Arnold to make that happen, no matter what his personal feeling might be.

Watching the water, an idea came to mind but Arnold quickly dismissed it. He couldn't just hop on a boat and sail over the horizon. Too much was at stake for him to just abandon his responsibilities.

So, Arnold took a deep breath and stood up. It was time to be a man and take care of things. Tomorrow morning, he was going to go to Rhonda's father and officially ask permission to marry his daughter. It was what was best for Port Hillwood so that's what he was going to do.

But before Arnold could leave his beach, an explosion tore through the silence of the night and then came the screams.

Fear knotted his stomach as he frantically climbed the cliff face which obscured his view. The screams increased and several more explosions sounded. By the time, Arnold reached the top his suspicions were confirmed. Fires were burning, explosions made the ground tremble, screams of terror mixed with savage cries of glee. Even from this distant Arnold knew what was happening.

Port Hillwood was under attack by pirates.