The pirate boy (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter thirty one - lullaby

Chapter thirty one - lullaby

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I was starting to regret forgiving Gerard for telling the Hangmen all of our semi-secrets.

They had been following us at every turn, almost chasing us, tailing us, keeping their distance but never gaining on us, and never falling back. I almost wished that they'd just hurry up and attack us so that we could fire at them. Whose idea was it to put the goddamn cannons on the sides of the ship? Surely any pirate would want to fire at the people chasing him. I certainly wanted to.

Now, I wasn't scared, so to speak. I was logically worried. Rationally anticipating my doom. It was Gerard who'd gone and put a label on my fearful babbling. 'Scared'. As if. And Dewees had gone and fucking agreed with him. We were all scared, apparently. I didn't like to think of it that way, it made us seem weak, and the last thing we needed was to be holding ourselves in low esteem when we needed all the confidence we could get.

"Confidence is overrated," Gerard scoffed, much to my disapproval, as he unsheathed his sword and examined it in the morning light. "It's all made up. You fake it and everyone believes it. Simple."

I scoffed, and gave him a shove. "That's ridiculous," I said. I pulled the dagger I'd grown most attached to from its holster on my belt and pressed it cleanly to his throat. "Fucking ridiculous."

Gerard hummed, and twisted my hand so that I hissed and dropped the knife. I scowled, and he raised an eyebrow. "No, trust me. Every confident person is just pretending."

I pressed my mouth to his jaw in a kiss, and smiled slyly. "Even you?"

"Of course. I'm fucking terrified," he murmured.

"'We're all scared.'" I echoed his earlier words. "Maybe we are."

Gerard tucked his face into the juncture of my shoulder, and his breath warmed my skin. The air around us was cold, but there was a bubble of heat around us. "Sorry."

"You should be," I said. "You're a mess."

"I know, dear."

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A day before we made port, Bryar hoisted up a stolen flag, and tossed our monochrome colours below deck. We dropped the anchor in the Belleville docks. I promptly refused to leave the ship. "Don't hurt my father," I told Gerard sharply. "Or the lady Emily Bowers. Don't you dare."

"I won't dare, darling," Gerard said passively.

I was far from passive. "Why are we here?" I demanded. "Is this your doing?"

"No," Gerard said. "It was Lisa."

I had no words. "To what purpose?" I managed.

"The Hangmen want to turn us in, and in return be granted a pardon for their past violence. And before you question me, we're not just making assumptions here, we asked them."

"Right, lovely. So it was Lisa who asked them, and it was Lisa's idea to bring us here to our deaths?"

"It was Lisa's idea to bring us here to plead forgiveness from the King. She thought that perhaps the King's advisor might have some influence over our sentence. Perhaps even our freedom."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "Or perhaps he will be so enraged that his son has been cavorting with pirates that he'll hang us all anyway."

"At least maybe we'll get to bring down the Hangmen with us. And don't you want to make your peace with your father? Last I heard he thought you were dead. Wouldn't it be nice if he knew you were alive and well before he killed you?"