To Sail the High Seas: Pirate England x Reader #Wattys2017

Chapter Eighteen

As soon as your fingers began running through his hair so tenderly, Arthur knew he couldn’t keep pretending that what he felt towards you was lust. He was used to the physical desire, and the strong urges to devour your soft lips or give you cause to moan his name hadn’t been unusual. The realization that his body refused to listen to these desires and wouldn’t, or maybe couldn’t, take you as he pleased had been frustrating to say the least, but now? Now he found himself unable to do anything but submit to your caress. Women didn’t treat him as gently as you did, there was either fear or lust (or in some occasions both), but never this. Whatever this was.
The two of you stayed like that for some time, with your warmth draped around the captain in a loose embrace. However it was long after the gentle movements of your fingers had ceased that Arthur noticed slumber had claimed you. Chuckling to himself at the defenseless expression you wore, he carefully gathered up in his arms and cradled you against his chest, carrying you across the room to the large cushion you had become so attached to. He momentarily considered placing you on his bed instead, deeming it to be the more comfortable option, however upon seeing the sunset out one window and realizing that he too would be likely to retire in a relatively short matter of time he thought better of it. You would not thank him for disregarding your wishes, not to mention the fact that it would be too much of a challenge for him to keep his curious hands off of your attractive form. Setting you down with care, his eyes lingered on you a moment longer before returning to his work.

You awoke with a jolt at the feeling of a skeletal hand being firmly clamped over your mouth. Instantly you were on high alert, the sudden rush of adrenaline prompting you to lash out against your attacker, who gave a grunt of pain as your kick connected with their side. Your eyes narrowed as you saw them buckle slightly under the force, and you realized that your assailant was of a similar stature to yourself, and as such would not have posed much of a threat had you not been ambushed in your sleep. As you were drawing back your leg to deliver another blow, the abrupt feeling of icy metal against your throat caused you to freeze. You stared up at the intruder in fright; had their intention been to kill you, they would have done so while you were still asleep, and the fact that you were still alive was almost more alarming than it was comforting.
You tried to size them up in the darkness, but aside from a blurred outline, the only feature you were able to make out were their eyes which were illuminated by a thin strip of moonlight which trickled in through the cabin window. Those eyes terrified you. They were dull and lifeless, seemingly drained of all their color and reducing any and every expression this person could have held to a cold stare. Were you not already being held at knifepoint, you were sure that her gaze would have frozen you in place – and it was a her, you realized, and a familiar her at that. Though once attractive, the violent bruising that marred the girl’s skin was sickening, and as your eyes adjusted to the dark you recognized the putrid yellowing tint to the unblemished flesh as a sign of malnourishment, as if her protruding bones had not been enough of a clue. It was impossible to tell what color her hair was, as the filthy strands were bound together as one clump of greasy filth. You didn’t know her name, but it didn’t much matter. The girl who looked down upon you now barely held a candle to the sobbing creature you’d seen in the cells of the ship all those weeks ago, and you could only imagine the contrast between your first memory of her, and the girl she had been before either of you had encountered pirates.
The knife was slowly withdrawn from your neck and the girl sat back on her heels, staring at you as if you were some rare creature. Sitting up slowly so as not to startle her, you held her gaze, and saw the recognition flash behind her eyes as well as… pity?
“You’re alive.” Her voice was croaky, as if she had done nothing but scream for days on end. After a moment you realized that this could well be true, and tried not to retch as you thought about what she had been subjected to. At your silence, the pity in her eyes grew and she pulled you forward into an awkward hug, as if she couldn’t quite recall how to comfort another human being.
“I could say the same about you.” You knew your voice had cracked, but you didn’t care. It had all come crashing back down. The harshness of reality could be ignored no more and you felt tears prick at your eyes.
Pirates.
Your thoughts screamed.
You knew what they were, and yet you still allowed yourself to create this fake fantasy with the handsome pirate captain.
You felt as if you were about to be very very sick, and the gratitude welled in your chest when she spoke again to pull you from your dark thoughts.
“You and I are the same really.” She nodded to herself before continuing. “I can see it. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here earlier. You were so kind to me before, I should have known that you’d survive. You and I, we’re strong. Now our time has come, don’t you worry, we will soon be free.”
“Wait… What are you saying?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She giggled softly, and the sound was almost haunting. “But don’t you worry, I understand, and soon we can leave this place. I won’t let that filthy pirate lay another finger on you.” Suddenly the girl was on her feet, walking towards the door at the back of the cabin. A crazed smile played on her lips, but her eyes remained stony and blank.
She’s mad.
You rose to follow her, cautiously remaining a few steps behind your unexpected visitor who was still mumbling to herself.
She’s completely insane.
You caught several words out of context, but her general intention was clear. She wanted to kill Arthur Kirkland.
And who can blame her? After everything that she’s been subjected to below decks, anyone would lose their mind.
You knew you’d been lucky, being gifted with an opportunity to remain beside the captain while only exchanging heated kisses, but it had never stuck you quite how lucky that really was. Compared to the young woman who stood before you, it was obvious that your “moral sacrifices” were nothing more than child’s play. She claimed to understand but she didn’t. The assumption that you knew anything of her sufferings was completely false, you couldn’t even begin to imagine the horrors she had endured.
And it has broken her.

You found yourself watching her from the doorway as she approached Arthur’s bed. His back was facing you, and from your vantage point, all that was visible was an unruly mop of blond and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he slept on blissfully unaware. The girl was barely an arm’s length from the captain when you called out to her in a whisper.
“Stop.” She turned, confusion in her eyes. “Let me.” Silently you moved to her side and prised the knife out of her grip. Suddenly her face blossomed into a ghastly grin, and you fought the urge to recoil from her insanity.
“Oh of course. I understand, I really do. I killed the men who assaulted me with my own hands too; it’s so much more… satisfying.” With a hand on the small of your back, she guided you forward until you stood over the captain with the dagger in both hands, poised to strike. “Be my guest.”
You took one last look at the girl before turning back to the man who lay oblivious to the events unfurling at his bedside.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Kill him!” The eagerness was evident in her voice, as well as the underlying malice and hatred. Scenarios of the poor girl’s tormented life over the past few weeks flashed before your eyes, as well as memories of your own recent past. Looking down at the man who had been the cause of all this, you knew what you had to do.
“I’m sorry.”