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

Chapter Nineteen

“I’m sorry.”
You swiftly plunged the knife into the soft flesh of your victim, tears pricking in your eyes as bile rose in the back of your throat. The thick warm liquid dripped over your hands to splatter on the floor, and all the while you repeated those two words like a mantra. You felt a feeble grip on your wrist as the girl looked down at her bloodied stomach in surprise, trying to contemplate the situation with her deranged mind. When she tugged lightly at your hands you didn’t budge, instead sliding the jagged blade deeper into her abdomen as your eyes burned and salty liquid blurred your vision.
“God I’m so sorry.”
She was gaping at you like a fish, and her dull orbs were dragged back up to meet your regretful gaze. Your apologies were becoming a constant prayer on the otherwise silent ship, though for the girl or yourself you no longer knew, but the words tumbled from your lips as a never-ending stream of anguish and remorse. With your hands trembling, you released the weapon and thrust the girl away from you. She staggered back until her body hit the wall and crumpled like a puppet with its strings cut. The crimson which flowed from her body was painting everything she touched with the color of death, and you too found yourself on your knees, shaking your head at the corpse-like girl who bled before your very eyes. You watched as her paling lips made several attempts to form her last words, words which you would remember until your last breath out of a sense of obligation to this stranger whose life you had ended. Eventually, the words came, and they shook you to the core.
“You’re one of them.”
It was not a question, but a statement, and her eyes had been overflowing with hatred before closing for the last time as a pained sigh left her thin lips. With that she was still. With that she had condemned you and left you to your sin.
“I must admit, love; I rather doubted your intentions for a moment there.” That velvet voice seemed so far off, but you focused on it in an attempt to claw your way out of this horrible nightmare. You felt the British man laid a heavy hand on your shoulder as he called you in a curious tone, and a quiet whimper escaped your lips. He repeated your name, his voice betraying his concern with the urgent manner in which he questioned you.
“I killed her.” It was all you could do to utter those three words, and it sounded like your own death sentence. You were a murderer, no better than the pirates you surrounded yourself with. You felt disgusted with yourself, and the bitter metallic stench which assaulted your senses did nothing to comfort you. You were a monster.

Arthur had never before been the slightest bit perturbed by attempts on his life, as it wasn’t uncommon. However the sound of your sweet voice insisting that you be the one to end his existence had shaken him more than he cared to acknowledge. He’d gripped the dagger which lay concealed beneath his pillow with white knuckles, praying he wouldn’t have to use it. Not on you, anyone but you. He would have laughed at the eagerness displayed by his assassin had you not been her accomplice. It would have been so simple to spring up and slash as the body closest to him, incapacitating them instantly, but the thought that said body could be yours held him back. He didn’t want to kill you. The mere thought of ripping an ugly gash across your delicate skin was enough to make the captain grimace in disgust.
At the sound of your whispered apology, Arthur knew he couldn’t risk another second. Grabbing the knife from its hiding place, he rolled to the far side of the bed and drew the knife up in front of his chest in a defensive gesture. Had he chosen to attack, the captain was confident that he would have been able to deal significant injury, but he realized by the sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t want to hurt you, regardless of your treachery. However as his green eyes grimly surveyed the scene, the hurt he felt at your betrayal turned to shock and admiration. He remained silent as the life ebbed from his would-be assassin, being able to do nothing but watch as she stumbled away from you and fell to the floor. You followed her shortly after, mumbling words of apology under your breath.
His first reaction was relief; you hadn’t betrayed him. Arthur shook his head happily, as a calm washed over him. He had doubted your feelings a little; what would a good little merchant girl want with a pirate after all, but this proved your loyalty if nothing else. However, this contentment faded rather quickly when he called your name only to receive broken sobs in return.

The blond held you carefully against his chest, not wanting you to shatter in such a fragile state. This was your first kill, he assumed, of course it was. Merchants were not known for having a strong stomach for death, and to stab someone was not the cleanest way to go about disposing of a threat.
A threat who was another female prisoner, just like her.
The gravity of the situation was beginning to settle in his mind. From your point of view, that girl who lay dead in front of you was just another unfortunate soul. You likely assumed your two positions to be interchangeable - though Arthur couldn’t imagine holding anyone other than you in his arms like this - and the result of such thoughts was probably terrifying. He tried to comfort you, though he was rather out of practice when it came to kindness, and he was sure the sweet nothings he murmured into your hair must have sounded hollow in light of the situation.
You, on the other hand, desperately grasped at your last lifeline, clutching onto the captain with trembling fingers as the sobs raked your body. You’d killed her. You were a murderer. That poor innocent girl who had wanted the same thing as you: freedom.
It was the right thing to do.
No.
She was out of her mind, there was nothing left for her back on land.
There must have been something.
She doesn’t have to suffer anymore. If you hadn’t killed her someone else would have done, or worse, they could have returned her to the filth that broke her in the first place.
Your internal warfare continued as the captain held you, rubbing his hand gently up and down your back. At some point Allistor burst through the cabin door, yelling something about several of the men below deck being murdered in their sleep, but it was all background noise, as if you were deep underwater. You felt like you were drowning, and part of you wished you were. She should have taken you with her to the next world, you deserved as much. Her last words danced around your mind like a haunting melody, your victim’s last legacy to this godforsaken world. A curse really.
You’re one of them.
Murderer.
Killer.
Monster.
Pirate.