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

Chapter Twenty~Four

"Carriedo."
That name seemed to weigh heavily upon Arthur's mind, and he froze as soon as it had left your lips. After a moment of silence, you waved your hand timidly in front of the captain's face, and gaining no response you tried calling his name. This seemed to rouse him from whatever state of shock he'd gone into, but his green eyes remained worryingly blank, and his only response was to blink at you expressionlessly.
"Well now I've got your attention: he's heading straight for us, and I highly doubt it's just to say hello."
"Nonsense." In an instant, the blond man was striding back and forth in front of you, his brow furrowed in concentration. "That Spaniard wouldn't dare, my ship's obviously larger and better equipped, he must know he doesn't stand a chance."
"You say that, but his ship's not that small; the difference is probably no more than thirty men, forty at most."
"That's still enough men to kill his crew before they kill mine."
"Either way, I know his ship. She may be smaller than this one, but she's faster too. They'll have caught up to us in a few hours and you know it."
By the lack of sarcasm directed towards your remark, you knew you were right. It was common knowledge that there was bad blood between the Englishman and the Spaniard, but never in your wildest dreams had you thought that you'd be standing on board one of their grand vessels, and on the brink of conflict no less.
"You're staying here." This statement brought you out of your thoughts with a glare.
"Excuse me? I am doing no such thing."
"We do not have time to argue about this, soon he'll be close enough to open fire, and I need to know that you're out of harm's way."
"Don't you mean out of your way?" You scowled at the blond who returned the expression just a fiercely.
"No, I mean exactly what I said." He brought on hand up to your cheek and brushed his fingertips across the flushed skin gently, concern momentarily flickering behind his eyes. "I'm not risking you, especially when it involves Carriedo."
"I can handle myself."
"Be that as it may, you can't handle killing. That much has made itself perfectly clear." He removed his hand from your cheek to run it through his messy blond hair in agitation. "It's not going to be pretty out there, on the contrary, it'll be a bloodbath. You don't know what a real battle's like-"
"Don't even go there Kirkland." You jabbed one finger roughly into his chest, getting angrier by the second. "I know exactly what a real battle is like, I've seen a bloodbath - hell I was part of one. Or have you forgotten how I ended up here in the first place?"
A slightly guilty expression marred his features, but as he opened his mouth to retaliate, a skinny boy stumbled through the door, yelling frantically.
"Slow down lad. What the bloody hell are you on about?"
"I... the Spanish, there's a ship and it's headin' straight for us Captain!"
"You don't say." Muttering obscenities under his breath, Arthur strode forward and socked the poor boy in the jaw. "So you're the bloody idiot who's been sitting in the crow's nest hm?"
There was a mumbled confirmation as the boy winced and rubbed his jaw.
"Why is it that she," Here the captain gestured back towards you. "managed to get here and tell me before you? You werespecifically assigned the job of looking out for other ships or uncharted land, so I want an explanation, and for your sake it better be a bloody good one."
The boy seemed to shrink into himself at the angered words of his Captain, and by the way his tongue was seemingly tying itself into knots you assumed that he lacked such an explanation. After it became clear that the boy had resigned himself to punishment, Arthur shoved him roughly out of the cabin with a snarl.

You watched them go with a shake of your head, both pitying the boy and gaining some twisted sense of amusement from his dejected expression. Looking around the now empty cabin, you decided to search for a weapon of some sorts. While the dagger you'd kept had proved useful against the brute earlier, you had originally kept it in your possession as a memento of the girl whose life you'd stolen with said blade. You ran your fingers across the simply-carved hilt and exhaled slowly. This was your life now. This was the path that you'd chosen after being thrown into a world you didn't know.
You were reminded of a story you'd read when you were just a little girl, about a vixen and her kits. The hunters had scared off all the other animals, but the vixen couldn't risk moving her children from the den, so they were forced to remain in the forest. However, as there were no other animals in the forest, there was no food for the fox family, and the vixen had no choice but to venture into the human settlement in search of food. You remembered crying your innocent little heart out after you'd finished the book; the vixen had travelled into the town several times, each time going just a little deeper in search of better food. In the end she'd been spotted by a group of human boys, and when they'd thrown stones at her she bit one of them. Upon fleeing the scene she was shot, and never saw her kits again. When you'd asked your father, through broken sobs, "why did the mummy fox do such a dangerous thing?" he'd smiled and stroked your hair softly, gently explaining that she'd had no choice but to adapt. Even though the world was a scary place, the vixen had changed her way of life to survive, and to protect the things that were important to her.
At the time you'd not really understood, wanting to know if the baby foxes were okay, which your father assured you they were with a laugh and a smile. Now you found yourself playing the vixen of your own story, and if you wanted to protect the things that were important to you - namely your freedom - then you were going to have to venture deeper into this new world, no matter the consequences.
You plucked the heavy pistol from the drawer and held it up to the light. For a moment you could have sworn you could see crimson stains coating the steel barrel, but when you blinked it was gone, leaving nothing but flawless metal, and the reflection of your own bitter eyes.