A/N: I decided to post the second chapter too, as incentive for people to read this. Y'all won't always be so lucky as to have a 2-chapter day- or a 2-chapter hour.
The Inevitable 1700s Piracy AU: Chapter Two
Dualscar's cape is on and he's donned the most sturdy pair of boots he owns, as if that will help him. His dismount onto shore is met with a salute by the officers lined up along the dock.
"Good afternoon, Admiral," one says, and Dualscar repeats the greeting with a "Good afternoon, Officer." He walks determinedly over to the Valiant Fortune and examines the ship.
It's a beautiful fluyt, that much he'll give her. It's anchored at port and seemingly has been for a while- the flags are lowered in a position that's hard to achieve and isn't worth for short term dockings.
The gangplank is down, so he decides to take a chance and walk up it. His usually smooth and calm demeanor is a façade; inside, he is trembling.
He knows where he's going. He quietly sneaks below decks, feeling his heart flutter with nervousness. Most of her crew must be out in town, because there are not scowling pirates strutting down the corridors. The ship rocks slowly in the waves and the scent of saltwater fills his nostrils. He finally reaches the door he's looking for: a high-quality cedar door with a crystal knob.
He turns the knob. To his surprise, the door is unlocked. He silently chides her for being careless with her own safety before realizing he shouldn't give her tips on how to survive.
The room is elaborate, with built-in mahogany bookshelves covered in maps and papers and thick, dusty books. The floor is wooden, which is in common with the rest of the ship, but expensive-looking Persian rugs are placed here and there, in testimony to her fancy tastes.
A wine rack is also built into the wall, and it isn't empty. Bottles of vodka, beers, wines, and nice liquor are stacked in the rack, along with a variety of wineglasses. Some bottles are smashed on the floor, rolling about with the movement of the boat. Tables and chairs pressed against walls are map-covered as well.
And then there's the bed- the dominant focus of the room. It's attached to the wall and the ceiling for protection against sliding due to the roiling sea waves, but it isn't the basic sailor beds her crew likely have. It's a king-sized four-poster bed with fluffy blankets everywhere and ornamental pillows on the floor.
Just as he expected, she's lying in it, dark hair standing out amongst the white pillows. She's nestled into the warm covers. He walks closer and sits on the edge of her bed, and she sits up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.
"Dual?" she murmurs. He gets a sudden racing feeling in his chest when he sees she's wearing his soft purple overshirt as a nightgown- the one with the broken buttons that just skims his hips but must come all the way to her thighs. She leans forward and tangles her hands in his hair, her fingers on the nape of his neck. Her lips press against his, hard and very near to violent.
His relationship with a pirate might sound contradictory, but he can explain. Mostly.
She had grown beautiful- as he had already noticed- and their rivalry often brought them close. In towns, in actual fights on the decks of their ships, and, one fateful time, on the dancefloor.
They had been in a coastal village in Spain, both at the same bar. She had been dressed beautifully that day, in a frankly indecent dress with a plunging neckline. He had been following her so he could arrest her for piracy, but he found himself watching her whirl to the Spanish guitar and piano tunes, her face flushed with drink and heat. He had tried to entice her into being caught; he had asked for a dance.
She had accepted, smirking, and throughout the song as their bodies moved together he kept telling himself to pull her aside now and bring her to the officers in the town. But he could not. Something about that night had set his mind on a different path. The sheer hatred he felt for her still burned in his mind, but something else burned too.
She had handed him enough drinks and taken sips of them herself that by one o'clock that night he was taking her back to his room above the bar. Clothes came off and curses were uttered and lips crashed together. Her body had been just as breathtaking without breeches and overshirts- perhaps more so.
Dualscar never forgot to mention his hatred for her, nor did she; but there was another feeling between them that could not be denied: lust. His Godly conscience hated his behavior, but his body didn't hate it nearly as much.
A good two hours later, she's leaning against his bare chest, tracing the trail of hair from his stomach to his waist with two fingers. Her head rests against his collarbone and he can feel her tangled hair on his skin. Her own skin is flushed with desire and marked with bruises he created.
"Where have you been, you useless bastard?" Her voice lilts up a little and she rests her chin on his chest to look into his eyes.
"Important Royal Navy business. None of your affairs, pirate."
Valisa's legs twine with his and she presses those rosy, soft lips against his shoulder. "I doubt it's not any of my 'ffairs, considering you're chasin' me all over the coast."
Dualscar begins rubbing her back, inhaling her scent of whiskey and saltwater and sex, and she shifts closer. He feels a laugh involuntarily slip from his lips. "You wonder why I chase you, darling, but you weren't wondering when you were screaming my name."
"I made you scream first," she brags, smirking. He feels a shiver of mixed hatred and love run up his spine.
"Why are you here?" he asks, raising his eyebrows. She grins.
"We needed supplies. Nobody knows us here."
"So that's where your men are?"
"Yes."
Valisa's crew is a rowdy one. Unshaven and unwashed men and boys seeking drink, gold, and most of all adventure. She keeps order, but only by shouting until she's hoarse.
"I should arrest you," he says, which he keeps vowing, vowing, vowing to do, but they both know the promise is as empty as her liquor cabinet at the end of the month.
"Oh, sure, yes, tie me up." Her smile is absolutely devious.
