I apologize to those who put this story on alert. To he honest, I had a really hard time writing this chapter so I let it take the back seat for a while.
I also don't really consider this story to be popular, not that many people review...

I will probably write this story at a very slow pace...unless you readers want otherwise. If you think this should be a major story like my other two...let me know! I will gladly put more effort to it when my schedule allows.

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own teen titans

Everything had changed so much. Where was the mast pole, the hard wooden floor, the cold biting chains and the endless open sky?

Gradually she was aware of hands touching her, tugging on the sleeve of her dress and letting out a cry of alarm she pulled her arm away wincing slightly at the pain. Raven quickly wiped her tears, swallowed her fear and turned to gaze into a pair of warm brown eyes.

"What are you doing to me?" It was a silly question and Raven knew it. This man was obviously the doctor on the ship and it showed. He was the only one who treated her with kindness and respect. She could not say the same for the rest of the crew. Raven hated the leering stares and the cruel remarks. No one treated her this way on Azarath...on the contrary, everyone adored her. As the High Priestess, they respected her, and as a citizen, they were kind. Each treated her like family...something that was unheard of when she grew up in England.

She wasn't looked upon as an object of desire either... on Azarath women were equals. Yes, this was very different...and not in a good way. Raven could only pray that these men kept their hands to themselves...lest the situation worsen.

"You lost a lot of blood Miss Roth. I didn't want to take the chance of having your wound get infected."

She nodded and moved closer to the huge man, allowing him to continue cleaning and bandaging her shoulder.

"I give you my thanks." She said with a slight smile. "What is your name?" The priestess figured it was in good interest to know the name of the only kind man on the ship...perhaps he could be of some use.

"Call me Victor."

"So who is the small boy by the door with green eyes and funny accent?"

Victor laughed. "That's Garfield…he'll be taking you to see the Captain."

She frowned slightly. "Do I have to?"
Raven did not like the captain. He was arrogant and selfish, and he reminded the young woman of her teacher, one man who was determined to keep her from attending school along side the boys of the village. It seemed that in England, girls were expected to stay at home...something that her mother would not allow.

Arella was determined to give her daughter the education she deserved. She fought that man mercilessly... till Raven was allowed to attend. She excelled in the school and was allowed entry to a prestigious academy in Gotham, shortly before her mother passed away.

It seemed there were always men like Richard at all the schools she attended. They were rich, privileged and stupid, constantly belittling those who earnestly deserved the opportunities. And being a woman, Raven was probably bullied the most. Yes, she hated men like Richard.

He chuckled at the complaining tone. "Unfortunately, yes. But don't worry…he's not as mean as everyone makes him out to be."

He better not be...

Garfield's footsteps echoed loudly against the wooden floor, a stark contrast to Raven's silent feet.

He seemed calm and composed but his eyes betrayed him and his true emotions revealed themselves in his bright green eyes. Confusion, anger, sadness…the kind one only gets from being torn apart from someone they really cared about.

All these things Raven saw in the small boy's eyes and she wondered how he came to be part of the crew. He seemed not older that fourteen.

"Gar-field…did I say it right?"

"It'll do." There was too much emphasis on the 'e' but he didn't really speak perfect English either. "How may I help you?"

"I just want to know something. How old were you when you're parents died?"

He stopped suddenly and grabbed her arm. "Who told you my parents died?"

She gazed into his sorrowful eyes as if searching for an answer. "There was a plague…the whole village was wiped out, yes? Only the children survived?"

His normally healthy-looking skin took on a ghastly green color. "Who told you this!" He shook her mercilessly but she didn't respond. It looked like she was in a trance…Garfield sighed and dragged her to the Captain's quarters more confused than ever.

How could she have known any of that? Is it because she was a priestess and many of them are supposed to have spiritual powers? Or was this woman a different exception…not many people have violet eyes and hair.

He rapped on the door and bit his lip. Captain Richard was always in a bad mood…even if he wanted you in his office. There was never a smile on his face. Was it that hard to have some rum and lighten up?

As quietly as he could he dragged the unresponsive woman into the room and slowly backed out the room, pulling the door shut behind him and ignoring the pleading look in her freakish purple eyes.

Richard looked up briefly from his paper and smirked inwardly when he watched Garfield dragging the stubborn woman into his office. Something looked off about her but he decided not to dwell on the subject. He was just to find out what she knew and send her back.

He placed his pen down and looked at her critically.

She stood proudly with her hands clasped behind her back, looking him straight in the eye, her head cocked at an angle…as if she were daring him to try something. Her dress was worn and ripped at her injured shoulder and the sleeves were tattered.

Richard wondered vaguely why a priestess would be wearing something so meager even though it looked like she had worn it over on top of her usual priestly garb.

He noticed the thin strip of fabric that wound about her neck and the light purple that was visible through the threadbare dress and, with disdain, the silk trousers. The priestess' violet hair; once tied back into a braid was slowly coming undone, and the unruly locks that clung to her angular face, her ruby chakra and full pouting lips gave her a wild erotic look.

But what put him off the most was the small gold and pearl chain-bracelet that seemed imbedded into her hands and wrists. It seemed an impossible feat to accomplish and yet, that was how it was.

How was something like that done?

She reminded him strangely of Korianna, his fiancée even though the two were completely different. Korianna was a quiet, sweet young woman with long fiery red hair and stunning green eyes, an attribute to her mother's Irish roots. She was known to have quite a temper…to match her fiery locks some said.

This woman in front of him was mysterious and cautious with flashing eyes and a sharp tongue. Her attitude was full of disrespect and defiance; the complete opposite of Korianna's meek and humble disposition.

She needed to be taught a lesson.

"Miss Roth, you realize it is disrespectful to stare me down like that."

She sneered. "I am under no obligation to adhere to your chauvinist rules."

Richard noticed her strange English... It was nothing like the typical Azartharian accents he heard. This one was more...French? He couldn't tell for sure."Where did you learn English Miss Roth?"

"I am under no obligation to answer any of your questions. You wasted your time in capturing me, I suggest you send me back to my people."

This woman was becoming a pain… "You are aware that the sooner you tell me what I want to know the quicker you can go home."

Raven laughed, her dark violet eyes twinkling with a strange light. "No, that trick will not work on me. You have already made up your mind about whatever it is I did to offend you. You will have to return me of your own free will."

Richard stood up and slowly walked up to her, his ice blue eyes cold and menacing. Why was she not afraid of him? What was it about this woman that made her so...difficult and so...intriguing?

She took a step back. "Do not touch me." Her eyes glared at him in anger and disgust. There was no fear...he wanted to see fear in her eyes. Everyone else feared him...why couldn't she?

Richard said nothing and continued to advance, cornering her into the wall.

In Garfield's mind, it seemed like hours before the strange woman was finally let out of Richard's office.

In reality…only fifteen minutes had passed. Time drags when a person is young. After all, they are the ones with bright futures, it is the youth that will become better leaders in the impending times. But to Garfield, the future did not look too bright.

No one wants to apprentice a fourteen year old boy with no background or talent to speak of. He was lucky enough to have found Victor…and even though he didn't really take a shine to medicine and the apothecary business, the man still gave him a place to stay and food. In return he took on the responsibility for meager chores and tasks…such as swabbing the deck and waiting on the crabby cook.

Sighing, Garfield removed his thoughts from his less than interesting life. Maybe now that a captive was on board things would be looking up. Perhaps they could even become friends.

The door to Richard's office creaked open and Gar stumbled back in shock. He looked at the priestess and back at Richard. "What did you do?"

The bang of the closing door was his reply.

Swallowing his dread, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well let's get you back on deck. Maybe Victor will bring you something to eat."

She ignored him and when the chains clamped around her ankles, he thought he saw an accusing look flash across her bizarre purple eyes.

I guess I can scratch friends off the list.

Garfield sat cross-legged in front of the captive, glaring angrily into her startling violet eyes.

She glared back fiercely, though her eyes and face betrayed no emotion. The wind blew softly and tossed her waist length hair gently, scattering it across her stony face.

Suddenly a grin spread across her face and she spoke out in her heavily accented English, "You blinked."

Garfield slammed his palms on the floor in defeat. "I'll never be able to beat you."
It had been several days since Richard 'had a conversation' with Miss Roth. He still didn't know what happened, what Richard had done to her or why there was a look of utter pain on the young woman's pale face.

Perhaps Richard did keep true to his word of 'whatever it takes'. Garfield couldn't believe he'd resort to torture. Even then, both of them refused to talk about what happened so he dropped the subject. Garfield thought it best to simply keep her company...though there were times when she probably didn't need anyone.

Miss Roth was silent for about three days, refusing to talk or eat. Finally, she spoke, only to inform him that 'this English gruel is revolting to look upon'. It was a welcome statement, for he felt the same way. Nevertheless, Garfield promised the young woman better food, in exchange for friendship.

The young woman found it rather astonishing, and she inquired as to why. The fourteen year old simply said, "I've never had a friend with purple hair and eyes."
It was the beginning of what the two hoped would be a promising friendship...at least until Richard killed her...or died.

"Oui. Now about the knife and the wood you promised me?"

Sullenly he handed the items over and frowned when she exclaimed in astonishment. "Vous les gens vous l'appelez un couteau! How am I to carve with such a dull knife?"(1)

He shrugged. "It was the only one I could get you without the Cap'n finding out. No one will miss a table knife." The statement was partially true. Richard may not notice, but the crabby cook would. And Garfield would probably have so scour pots for several weeks to make up for it.

"Les gens si en arrière, tous les couteaux ne sont pas signifiés pour être pointus?" Raven mumbled to herself as she ran the knife across her wrist. (2)

"What was that?" Garfield looked at her suspiciously. It was odd to him, the way she spoke. It was French, that much he was certain, but the way she could switch between that and English simply puzzled him. It was as if her thoughts were scrambled, half in English and half in French. Miss Roth probably couldn't tell the difference...

She smiled brightly. "Nothing, observe as I transform this piece of wood into-"

"Ooh! Do a horse!" The young man was excited to say the least. Carving was a feat that he could never accomplish...he didn't have the patience, nor the steady hand required for the trade.

"A horse it is ma cherie."

Garfield watched transfixed as she deftly shaped the piece of wood, hands moving in a blur, her face blank with concentration, unaware of the small crowd that gathered to watch.

People walking back and forth from the deck seemed to pause on their way and watch quietly with interest…if only for a few minutes. Some of the daring crew members stopped what they were doing altogether and sat down beside Garfield watching with disbelief…not many women knew how to carve wood where they came from.

It was unheard of…and that's what made it so intriguing….that is until the familiar tap of Richard's shoe resonated against the wooden deck. There was a loud scuffle as everyone rushed back to their respective tasks.
The noise went unnoticed to the captive priestess, who continued on whittling away at the soft dark wood. Even Garfield's surreptitious coughing couldn't drag her from the task.

"Miss Roth."

The spell was broken and the woman's steady hands faltered. An attractive frown made it's way on to her pale face and to everyone's surprise, she let out a string of curse words. "Look what you did…it's ruined!"

Garfield took the horse and looked it over. "No it's not, just carve a saddle."

She frowned. "Oui, I could do that."

In a flash it was finished and she held the completed piece. "Wa-la!"

Clapping ensued around the deck till Richard glared and pried the horse from her hands. She glared up at him, her exotic lips turned down in to an attractive pout. "That's not yours, its Garfield's. I could make you one if you give me some more wood?"

Richard shook his head. Her behavior was so random. For several days she was solemn and serious, refusing to talk at all when she was questioned. It was becoming a nuisance, especially since he had learned nothing from her since she was captured. But now she was unusually talkative and somewhat childish. This was quite unlike the typical mood swings that Korianna and her spirited but aloof friends often displayed.

This was a deeper, different change. It was as if her emotions were separate beings in her mind...and she could call them at will. But was that even possible? To be able to summon emotions and switch them off and on? How did that work?

Richard resisted the urge to groan. She was a puzzle... with missing pieces. And Richard hated having incomplete games.

"I did not bring you on this ship to carve toys for my crew."

"Then why am I here? Why won't you just tell me instead of holding me captive?" Her aggressive tone irked him.

"Where did you learn your English?" He didn't really mean to ask the question...but it was in his mind. Can't take it back now...

Raven raised an eyebrow. "Answer my question first."

"You seem to have much difficulty speaking English." That was an understatement. Her pronunciation was horrible to say the least, yet she spoke the language better than some of the foreign people in his crew.

She shrugged indifferently. "That's what happens when you learn three languages at once. Vos mots ne partent jamais le droit." (3)

"She's been doing that all day, Sir." Garfield mumbled in a bored tone.

Richard nodded absently. "Is there a language you would prefer to speak?"

Raven looked at him intently and began fingering a string of beads around her neck, her mouth moving silently.

"She does that a lot too, Sir." Garfield droned, sounding bored with all of her strange tricks.

"So, she's in a trance?" Her behavior was so odd, from the way her emotions seemed to change like the tides, her strange accent that no one could seem to place and now this. What was wrong with her?

"No. I think she's praying."

"Richard…you seem saddened. Did someone close to you die?" He shuddered at the voice. It was cryptic, and void of any emotion. But how could she have known? Was it because she was a priestess...or was there another reason.

As much as he'd like to deny... she intrigued him, probably to the point where it didn't matter how long she stayed his prisoner...Richard needed to solve the mystery.
It was wrong, really. He promised himself that after he found Arella, he would bring her back...to stand trial for murder. However the judges needed a confession. They couldn't put her on trial because the case had been closed long ago. Unless she made a confession...Richard would never get justice.

So he promised himself that no matter what happened...he wouldn't resort to torture. Because torture was beneath him... he didn't believe in it. Richard couldn't believe how easily his beliefs were swayed. Arella was relentless in silence...nothing he did or said would sway her resolve.

So he threw justice to the wind...because now he had a new mission. To figure out this strange woman...no matter the consequence.

"Do not burden yourself with sadness anymore. His soul is at peace."

Richard's mouth went dry as he fought for control. He turned towards Garfield, his clear blue eyes boring relentlessly into his friend's skull. The young lad shook his head vehemently. He didn't say anything...which meant...

He clenched his hands into fists and retreated to his room before he could break his promise to Victor.

"Vic, I don't know if I can do this…she makes me so angry."

Victor was silent for a while, still busy patching the masts. The steady swaying of the boat and the swishing waves filled in the pondering silence. Finally, Victor spoke, his voice sounding almost like an accusation. "Can you blame her? Her life was perfect and then you take her away without a chance to even say goodbye. Of course she would be angry. I just hope you grabbed the right person."

Grabbed the right person? Just what did he mean by that? "What do you mean?" There was no way he went wrong in capturing her. After all the meticulous research that he went through, there couldn't have been a way he made a mistake.

Could I have grabbed the wrong person?

Although, this woman fit Arella's description …something about her didn't seem to add up. Deep down he felt that Victor was right. And this feeling annoyed him.

"Well, look at her…she's way too young to have done it…judging from her looks she had to have been fifteen when it happened." Victor did have a point...but it wasn't convincing.

"You know perfectly well that someone at the age of fifteen is perfectly capable of murder... you saw what happened with Wesley."

"Yes. I just can't see her doing anything bad. Be careful with her. I know she might not look it, but she is capable of causing a lot of damage."

Richard resisted the urge to scoff at this statement. At least the damage causing part. He just couldn't believe that someone so petite could cause anyone damage. Then again she did manage to shoot three of his men...and injure several others. Perhaps there was more to her than met the eye...either way Richard welcomed the challenge.

The captain nodded while staring at the wooden floor. "I'll be careful. I promise."

"One other thing. You are feeding her right?" The suspicion in Victor's voice caused him to jerk up in surprise.

"Yes. Why?"

Victor frowned. "No reason."

The ship was such a fascinating place to Raven. She always watched with awe the heights people climbed to make repairs to the sails or to fix fraying ropes. Garfield called them riggers. Raven had wondered why he was not a rigger…most of them had small builds like him.

But Garfield said he was afraid of heights and because of that, many of the other crew members ridiculed him. His job now was to swab the decks.

"If I asked you to climb this pole, could you Garfield?"

"No, could you?" He asked, marveling at the intense look in her eyes. He wondered if she could climb the pole. Where he came from...girls didn't do such things.

Raven scrutinized the beam she was shackled to, deep in thought. "Yes, I am pretty sure."

His green eyes glittered with surprise and mischief. She had to be bluffing. "Then climb…if you get as high as the chains allow…I'll sneak you more jerky and milk."

"Really mon ami? Because as I have said... this gruel you English people eat is rather disgusting. We have a deal." Raven slipped her slippers off and stood to her feet.

"Wow, you've got some pretty tiny feet Miss." Garfield exclaimed as he held her shoe.

She chuckled softly, his words reminding her of someone who once held a special place in her life. Raven wondered where he was now or if he even received her message. "They're not that small." With those words, Raven bunched the skirts of the servants garb, knotted them back, and slowly scrambled up the pillar; the heavy silver chains clinking loudly.

When she could go no further she released her arms and hung upside down from the pillar, swaying precariously. "How's this?"

"Miss, if you fall I'll never forgive myself. Come back down." There was a hint of fear in his voice as well as worry, something that amused the priestess. Did Garfield really think she was going to fall? She had climbed things much worse than this... Why should he be worried about her?

"Yes Miss Roth, I would advise you listen to your dear friend."

Inwardly Raven groaned. The captain was back. She really wished someone would remove the stick shoved up his ass. Why was he so uptight about everything? Why can't he just loosen up?
She wondered if it had to do with the strange cloud that hovered on his shoulders.

Not literally, of course...it was something only she could observe. But whatever happened to him...in his mind she was to blame. And Raven hated being accused of things she knew she would never commit.

"Oh, hello Richard. Tell you what, if you remove this chain and let me climb to the top…I will answer any questions you have." The young woman knew she was pushing the line. He was already angry... and it wasn't going to take much for him to snap.

Richard scowled. "Get down NOW!"

She pouted but climbed down the pillar and took her shoes from Garfield. "You're such a curmudgeon. Why can't you loosen up?" Probably not a wise thing to say...but right now Raven could care less. It was time he learned a lesson.

Richard bristled. Why was she so defiant, so disrespectful and stubborn? And how dare she stand up to him and challenge his authority! He slapped her hard across the face, watching angrily as she stumbled back and stared at him in surprise.

Her hand flew to her face and she continued to glare, her features going from surprise to rage. "You can't tell me what to do, Richard!"

He slapped her again. "That's Captain Richard to you."

"You can't tell me what to say either, Richard." He wasn't expecting her to slap him back. This time it was Richard who stumbled back, eyes widened with surprise, and features contorting into a mask of rage.

Blinded with anger, he pinned her against the wooden pillar, his muscular arm crushing her slender throat. "I've had enough of your disrespectful attitude. You will tell me what I want to know."

Raven's eyes flashed. "I have done nothing, therefore I have nothing to say."

"You know damn well what you did."

"Then tell me what I did, you bastard! Tell me what I did to you!"

Richard slapped her again and she spit in his face.

He slammed her several times against the pillar. "Do not play innocent! You know what you did…"

A heavy hand clamped down on his stiff shoulder and pulled him away. "Richard, that's enough." Victor looked at him, his usually warm brown eyes now coated with disappointed.

Richard said nothing...because what was there to say? He broke his promise, and nothing he said was going to change that.

"Do not think because you have won this battle that I will give in." It was that empty emotionless voice...how did she do that? He turned and stared into her face, instantly wishing he hadn't.

Because there was a sadistic grin on her usually pretty face...one that haunted his very soul. "This war has just begun. Torture me all you like, I will say nothing... till I get the respect I deserve. But Richard, be warned. Revenge is subtle and patient. It bides it's time…just waiting."

She laughed, that frightening smile still etched in her face, blood dripping from her swollen lip. "I'm a very patient woman, Richard Grayson.

Writing the last part was a little odd...I didn't want Raven to come off as angry...but more mystery and suspenseful.

Richard's character is a little complicated for me as well. I don't want him to come off as really mean, just desperate for information. He wants revenge...and if anyone watches Smallville they would know that 'revenge is like an obsession.'

*This is the link for the bracelet….and when I say imbedded I mean it can't ever come out. Don't ask me where that idea came from but it is plausible….kinda like her chakra.

/2010/02/types-of-indian-jewelries-part-7-bracelets/

(1) French- what kind of knife is this

(2) French-such a backward people, are not all knives meant to be sharp?

(3) French -your words never come out right

Review!

~heartless16