Only at one point in time did he understand companionship in his youth. He thought about the event as the waves gently lapped up against the sides of the large ship.
One hand held onto the rope hanging off the mast, feet planted firmly on the edge of the deck railing. Clean, blue pirate robes blew around his lean body as the ocean wind hurried past him. There was a storm on the way.
"Captain!" Someone yelled from the hull.
Prussia turned halfway, ruby eyes locking on one of his crew members. "What?"
"Another ship was spotted!" The man declared, pointing a finger up to the lookout post. "Think it may be a British ship."
With a whirl, the Captain jumped right off the railing. His boots hit the floor boards hard, the noise like a wake up call to the rest of the calm crew. While Prussia strode the stairs, the various crew members scurried to get out of his way, knowing that look on his face.
He knew it was Britain. He knew Britain would want a fight. He always did.
As did Prussia.
There may be a chance that France was trailing along behind Britain, though, trying to overtake him once again. The French captain would leave the Prussian alone, as he often did in these situations.
Prussia understood it as friendship.
"It is Britain, sir." The lookout hollered down to the kingdom, his scope held up to his eye.
"I thought so." Prussia muttered. He looked over to the left, able to make out the oncoming ship, the British flags. However, it appeared that France had better things to attend to, as his ship was nowhere to be seen. "Ready the canons."
Once an enemy, always an enemy. Prussia lived by this rule. He refused to allow anyone who had done him wrong and become his enemy to have a second chance. Because it was just not deserved.
Something big and round came shooting by the ship in a blur of black, just barely missing the ship's hull. Prussia watched it crash into the water nonchalantly then faced the crew preparing his ship's canons. They were awaiting his order.
"Fire."
In the midst of the fire, the deafening blow of the canons, and the smoke, Prussia leaned against the railing of his ship's deck, expression a neutral mask. Canon balls were shot right back from the British, but not as many were making any contact. They were being disabled for once. It was one of those few occurrences when he would beat Britain.
When he heard the screams ad shouts of the British crew, a smirk broke out on his face. The feeling of domination ran strong through his still body. He fought to win.
"Prussia!" The name was screamed across the gap of sea from the British captain's lips in a rush of fury. "Come out here and face me like a man!"
Ah. Prussia's smirk grew. Britain had dared to bring his ship even closer. How brave of him.
"Britain." Prussia hopped down the stairs and straightened, making his way over to the rail again on the lower deck. "How nice to see you again so soon."
Their voices carried easily across the water in the new silence.
"I cannot say the same." Britain replied, his expression restraining clear rage. "Somehow you have managed to disable my ship. I am surprised."
Prussia tilted his head. "So I have."
"Should be too surprised, though." Britain scoffed. "You are the devil, after all."
Ruby eyes narrowed at the mention of the "D" word. He should not be affected by that word by now; it was something he heard much too often growing up. But there was still that one part of him that would never be able to handle that word.
Devil. He was a devil. Who has ever told him otherwise? Maybe his father accepted him, but only to a degree.
"Finish him." Prussia turned his back on the enemy and simply walked away.
A/N: I welcome ideas as well. :)