Treasure: ℛℯ-𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓃 |Pirate!England X Reader|

𝚇𝚅𝙸

(Name's) POV

After a long night of serving the rowdy crew, I finally finish cleaning the kitchen, the locket still weighing heavily on my mind. "How am I going to get it back if Carriedo is wearing it?" I mumble to myself. The footsteps of the men continuing to party overhead interrupt my train of thought, and I toss the rag into the bucket.

I'll figure it out later. I need to get some rest.

I walk quietly through the empty hallway and find my way to the spare room they've allowed me to use, kicking my boots off and flopping down onto the bed as soon as the door closes behind me. I gently pull the little horn from my pocket and roll over onto my side as I trace the designs with my finger. The look on Mathias' face that day hurt more than the fact they left me there— his bright, blue eyes bravely holding back the tears he, so desperately, tried to hide from me.

He was the closest thing I had to a father.

I wonder where he is now...?

I wonder where all of them are now. Are they even still alive?

The Vikings, Klaus, Arthur...

A R T H U R?

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling in utter disgust, placing the shell on the little side table to my right. "How dare that bastard come to mind," I sneer. Burying my face into the sheets, I slowly drift into sleep.

"(Name)."

My eyes abruptly open to the dark room and I grab the knife underneath my pillow as I shove the knife at the man's throat. Before I can get a word out, a hand tightly claps over my mouth, and I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder. I slowly look up to find a pair of piercing green eyes staring down at me; the moonlight illuminating the spikes of the man's hair was the only thing I needed to recognize who it was.  "Don't say a word." I slowly nod and pull the knife back, and he removes his hand from my mouth, leaning in closer. "This is the key to the Captain's dorm," I feel him gently take my hand and put something cold into it. "Get inside and climb through the window— there is a small balcony with access to the Captain's private rowboat on the lower side of the ship, I'll meet you there." He begins to back away, but stops for a second, mere inches away from my face. I see a slight smile in his eyes as he stands up straight and looks towards the door. "The next rotation of guards is in about five minutes, so you will need to move quickly, mid-rotation." As he begins to walk away, I jump up and manage to grasp the end of his sleeve.

"Abel, what's going on?"

He turns back and leans down to get eye level with me, "I'm getting you out of here." His hand reaches up and lands on my head, ruffling my hair, before he disappears into the dark abyss of the hallway. I quietly close the door and turn, pressing my back into it, my heart racing— I put my hand on my chest in an attempt to calm it. I walk over to the side of the bed and pull my boots back on, stuffing the knife into the special pocket Mo had sewn into the inner side of the right shoe. I take one last look around the room and my eyes land on the little shell. Taking it in my hands, I gently press it to my cheek.

"Not leaving you behind again," I whisper with a smile, putting it into one of the many pockets of my trousers. With a deep breath and anxious excitement on the rise, I press my ear to the door to hear for any activity. After a few moments of silence, I hear voices begin making their way down the hallway.

"Can you believe that Carlos out-drank the Captain?!" One of the men laugh, the clinking, of what I assume to be, a staff accompanying his every step.

"The man's a damned drunk-- I have to take a double shift tonight because he couldn't walk three steps without keeling over," the other scoffs, the sound of clanking chains swaying with his body movements. The tones of their voices tell me the two are younger-- they must be one of the deckhands, and they are taking their sweet time getting down this hallway. I sigh in annoyance, and as soon as the air leaves my lungs, the footsteps halt. My breath hitches in my throat as I press my ear a little harder into the door, hearing the men whisper amongst themselves.