A/N- Yep. I'm evil. I AM SO SORRY. I had told myself to wait for a review, but I didn't get any. And then I realized that it's been AT LEAST a couple of months! *screams*
Beta'd by the amazing Magic and The Marauders…
Also, the story will pick up in a chapter or two. It's very slow right now; sorry about that.
||Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. You're mad if you think I do.||
PLEASE REVIEW!
Previously on Hesitance:
"Cap'n, there be a man wanting to see you," he reported, standing straight-backed.
The captain's lips curled into a frightful smile as she leaned forward and entwined her thin hands; the light making her red hair light up and her emerald eyes glisten. The silver-gold bracelet lay upon her wrist, the intricate pattern above encrusted emeralds.
"Perfect," Captain Lily Evans murmured.
James strode onto the dock and up to where The Marauder was bobbed about in the water.
"'Scuse me? Is there a way I could see the captain?"
A ragged man glanced at him, scanning his single eye up and down, most likely taking in James' handsomely-made robes.
"One mo'," he said, starting up the gangplank. James watched him go, than began to formulate a plan.
He would offer them money. Most captains loved money, and odds were this man would too. He'd explain what he needed. If that didn't work, he could always use threat. But threatening didn't sit well with James. Especially not the way he did it.
"Come up 'ere! Cap'n says they'll see you!"
James admired the Captain's work. Only a true man could keep such a beautiful ship in such well condition.
The sun shone pale gold and silver on the deck and railings; the mist of the late evening had gathered around the men, who worked tirelessly, sweeping and polishing the hull and decks. Others climbed ropes and ratlines overhead; James' hands already felt sore at the prospect of the work. Bare feet clomped around the deck, and the swirl of water was heard all around. The heavy scent of salt floated on the air, and James inhaled the soon-to-be familiar smell.
"C'mon."
James whipped his head around as the sound broke through his thoughts. The gruff man who'd met him at the gangplank glared at him through a single, blue eye. He had coarse blond hair that was ruddy, dirty, and ragged from days at sea- without a wash. His other eye was covered by a heavy patch- stereotypical of a pirate, mused James silently.
The man had started forward again, and James followed dutifully. A heavy plunk! marked every other step of the man, as he had a peg-leg, as well. They moved across the deck. Step, plunk! Step, plunk!
A large mahogany door was situated on the far end of the ship, and the man lifted a heavy, gnarled hand to thud on it.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
James held his breath as it swung open; his fists clenched tight.
"You two! I've TOLD you to STOP FIGHTING! You're HORRID examples of Mates! Stop it! It's AN -"
Whatever James was expecting, it wasn't this.
The room was filled with bookshelves and plants, oddly enough. Books and papers were strewn about everywhere, and a few ink patches stained the floor. A bit of dirt littered the ground.
A tall man with long, dark hair had been shouting at a tall- yet shorter than him- woman with dark hair pulled up. Their hands had been at cutlasses that had been strung upon their hips with thick fabric. The woman's eyes had blazed, and she'd actually gotten to the point of drawing the cutlass out and holding it to the man, before the shrieking began.
It was truly an odd sight; one that would've had James in stitches if it wasn't so bloody strange.
The two rowers were now standing still, glaring daggers at each other. Their knuckles were white against the metal handle of the cutlasses. The woman's jaw was clenched with fury; the man, however, had narrowed eyes that darted to the brunette and the one who was yelling.
An average height- maybe a bit short- redheaded woman had sat, watched them for the first moment of their row, and then stood. She slammed her fist onto her desk, and the two had stopped, looking at her with grudging respect.
Her auburn hair was pulled into a bun, and tied up with a white clothe. The sun had bleached a few strands of it copper-colored, and they added to the fire-look of the locks. Her emerald eyes blazed with fury as she whipped her head back and forth between the pair. A few freckles graced her face and, James had to admit, added to her beauty. Her temper seemed short-spanned, and had obviously been set off by the pair.
The group seemed familiar.
"-ORDER! I…oh. Hello, Moody. What's the update?"
The man who had led James in earlier- Moody, James supposed- took a step forward.
"I've a man here, says 'e needs to speak to the Cap'n," Moody grumbled, giving a shrug.
James brushed past Moody and strode through the door; his boots clunking on the floor. The redhead had her hands upon her hips and an eyebrow cocked, looking at him strangely. James ignored her, however, and moved towards the man. He stuck his hand out.
"I'm James Potter. You have a magnificent ship. It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain…?"
But the man only grinned; a twinkle appearing in his eyes.
"Lily Evans. Captain Evans to you, Mr. Potter. And I'd appreciate it if you'd face me."
A frown formed on James' face, and he turned on his heel. The woman- Captain Evans- smirked at him, her eyes challenging.
"You're the Captain?" He couldn't mask the disbelief in his voice anymore. This woman- Evans- was the captain. She was at least a half-foot shorter than him. He let out a hollow-sounding laugh. "No."
She glared at him for a moment, before a calm expression fell onto her features and she smirked once more, waving her pale hand about.
"I haven't got time to waste. Why are you wasting it? What do you need?"
James shook his head and chuckled to himself softly before answering.
"I require passage upon your ship. I need to travel to many places before I must depart at Knockturn Alley. It will be long, I suppose. I am different, as well. Dangerous. But I am willing to pay money. I will also work upon your ship," James said quietly, a hand reaching up to ruffle at his messy black hair.
The other woman interrupted, holding a tan hand up to him.
"Hang on a momen'. Potter? As in, the Royal family, Potter?" Her eyes, so like shards of ice, held none of the wonder that most people's contained when they learned of his name. Instead, they held a bit of confusion and puzzlement, as if she was trying to figure something out. Her nose was scrunched up, and the man beside her looked similar. A frown was spread across his face, a confounding glimmer in his eyes.
"Yes. That Potter."
A sharp intake of breath from the man made James turn to him.
"Could I inquire your names?"
"Aye. I'm Sirius, Sirius Black," the man said, nodding to James, who held out his hand. Sirius eyed it for a moment, and then took it gingerly.
A large, sapphire stone sat atop a silver-encrusted ring. The colors seemed to be moving around in the stone. Strange, James thought. Before he could get a better look, Sirius pulled away.
"And I'm Ressisa. Ressisa Nicula."
James shot her a grin, before taking her hand and pressing his lips to it briefly. "It's a pleasure, Ressia."
But she pulled away and glared at him, brows furrowed. Her hand had drifted toward her cutlass subtly. "Don't call me that. Res. It's. Just. Res."
James held his hands up.
"Alright, alright. So…what d'you says, Cap'n?"
The Captain looked back and forth between Res and Sirius.
"Alright. When I finish, you'll be handing that money you promised over 'ere. Then Res and Sirius will take you ashore- step lively, you two, go gather Weasley and another- to get you new clothes and such, as well as test your skills. Then you'll come back an' report to me," Captain Evans instructed.
"Also, Res; look for new recruits in town. If you can't find any…well,"-a mischeivous glimmer crept into Evans' eyes- "you know what to do."
Sirius snorted slightly. "Great. Res get Weasley and Diggory. I'll get the sacks and Potter here," he said, jerking his head towards James.
"Alright. So we have to get you a couple sets of clothes, a pistol, a cutlass…" Res muttered on for a moment and Sirius groaned.
"Yes, yes. Normal pi-…sailor necessities. And he's paying for it."
Res shot a glare at him and James sighed, looking around.
The harbor was filled with ships of all shapes and sizes. A few he recognized as Fleet ships, but most were smaller. The town is what interested him, though.
Rough, grimy, and dirty old pubs scattered throughout the place, a few inns and hotels thrown in as well. Quaint clothing shops and bookstores and smaller homes were clumped together near the seafront. The salt air still reached out onto the town, and the walls of buildings were dried.
People roamed and ran and wandered about, going in and out of shops. The buzz of chatter littered the air, and James caught a few snippets of words.
"Riddle…" "Four galleons, they're mad…" "…Godric! Remus, shut it…" "…the shadows…"
"Here we are," Res said, ushering James and Sirius into a shop- Madame Malkin's.
"Res! We always go to this shop first. Can I take Potter to get weapons while you get clothes?"
Res agreed, and James told her his sizes a moment before Sirius dragged him off.
"You're familiar. I can't figure it out. And I hate that." Sirius sighed. "Anyways, what can you do? Can you use a sword?"
James nodded.
At the castle, he'd been forced to take lessons when he was younger. One of them was fencing. Finding he was good at it, the instructors praised him and told him to continue with it. So he did, and took more diverse lessons in the art of fighting; hand to hand; shooting; wrestling; and many more. Along with those classes, he also took French, Latin, Spanish, and Portuguese to be able to communicate better; Arithmacy and Ancient Runes because they were important in the position of power; and all the normal sessions that Royalty normally took.
"'Course I can. So…how do you know Res and Evans?"
Sirius sighed.
"I've known Res for…for a long time. We...well, the Captain, Res and I all became good mates when a couple of things happened. You probably know. Everybody knows. But I was a son of Royalty- a Lord. Res was a really young girl, a few years old when we took her in. My parents hated it, but I insisted. They still hate her," he said, then grinned, "and me. Lils, well, that's a long story. She had a mishap when she was younger, one that caused all of us to become friends."
James knew what he was speaking of.
He'd been there, too.
And affected, as well.
James lifted a sword up and eyed it. They'd entered a shop not-to-long-ago and Sirius had asked the shopkeeper for the swords. The short, thin man had complied eagerly.
"And after that- excuse me, Mr. Eyre? Could I 'ave a glass of water? - we grew close. She got money, and bought a ship. Made me Firs' Mate, Res is Second. We've been sailing together for the last few years."
The long-haired man lounged back on the counter, while James examined a different cutlass.
This sword had a gold-and-silver hilt with convoluted patterns etched in black. The silver blade was long and sharp. James held it for a minute then took a few steps and parried and jabbed. He turned it over, and his eyes widened. A large, fiery opal was set in the hilt's other side. The light made the flames jump, and James squeezed his eyes shut.
"This one."
"You sure?" Sirius had gotten his glass of water from Mr. Eyre, and was swirling it around. It moved peculiarly in the cup.
"Yes. And...that pistol," he said, picking up a gun with the same gem. The polished wood clashed wonderfully with the smooth silver, the un-dented surface shining.
He walked over to Mr. Eyre with his choices.
Sirius had now poured the water into his hand. "Alright, mate." A grin light up his face as he ran his finger through the clear liquid; it wrapped up and around the phalange, floating about in the air. He hummed, shaping it lightly into a ball before pushing it back in the glass. "Ah."
James halted in front of him, and waited while Sirius jumped from the counter, finished the glass, and led the way out.
So, what did you think? Question Of The Day: What is your OTP?