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

Chapter Thirty~Eight

You marched across the town with new purpose in your footsteps. The last of your coin having been used as a bartering tool for information, you prayed to any deity who might have been listening in the hope that your last lifeline wouldn’t be cut before you could reach it. The port, of course, had been void of anything, or more importantly anyone, vaguely helpful. Having had the English vessel slip from between your fingertips, you had little choice in your next course of action.
After leaving the town, the roads had become steeper and poorly defined. The previously stone-paved path had given way to a dirt track which wound up the rise of the land and through the various fields of golden crops. Finally stumbling over the ridge of the hill your eyes began to search the coast frantically. You swore that if that thieving little man had double crossed you he’d-
There.
A proud mast stood tall, betraying the large ship’s position as it hugged the cliff, concealing itself in the natural cove. This one wasn’t getting away.

They must have seen you coming, though you supposed it was unavoidable when you had a good twenty feet of sand to trek across between leaving the relative safety of the undergrowth and finally reaching the carved wooden decking upon which you now stood. The expressions of the crewmen were almost comical; some had the relative sense to draw their weapons, which seemed fair seeing as your cutlass was glinting merrily in the burning sunset, but others just… stood there, mouths agape and eyes wide like a hideously deformed shoal of sea bass.
¿Quién diablos es esta perra?
You shot a sidelong glare at the man who’d spoken but said nothing, instead scanning the deck of foreign faces for one you recognised. No such luck.
“Oi, puta!” This time you faced the man directly, trying very hard to rein in your tongue before you said something you’d regret. “¿Quién carajo te crees que eres?”
“Your vulgar language is unappreciated and therefore I will not dignify that with a response.”
Your audience visibly grimaced at the sound of English tongue but you paid them no mind, having focused on the young man who stood a little apart from the crowd. He was glaring at you, but somehow it was less threatening than some of the smiles you were currently receiving and so you didn’t shy away. He was tall and lean, not unlike Arthur in stature though perhaps a little slimmer. You let yourself tune out the various comments from everyone else on deck, electing to hold the glare of your chosen opponent, intrigued as to what he would do next.
“You’re not from here, ragazza.”
“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed. Thank you so much for enlightening me…?” You left your question hanging in the air as an unspoken invitation for him to introduce himself. If that frown hadn’t seemed so deeply carved into his brow, you might have mistaken the faint twitch of his lips for a smile.
“Lovino, e tu?”
“Lovino hmm, that’s Italian isn’t it?” You skirted around his enquiry with a sly smirk. “I’m afraid I’ve never had the pleasure of visiting Italy, but I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”
“That’s not an answer ragazza.”
“Isn’t it?” You laughed, though it was slightly forced. “I do apologise, but I have business with your Captain and really no time to waste on introductions.”
This admission caused a collective chuckle from the men on deck, and the Italian sighed with exasperation.
“That bastardo, not out of the enemy’s clutches for a full day and he’s already picking up women.” Your eyes narrowed at this.
“Excuse you but I am not one of Antonio’s-”
“Si si, of course you’re not.” He waved off your protest with an irritated glower. “Look ragazza, whatever he promised you, whatever it is you think he feels for you, forget it. The tomato bastard likes pretty women. That’s it. He never had any intention of taking you off on a grand adventure, any more than he was going to take all the women before you.”
You started blankly at the auburn-haired man. Was he mistaking you for a tavern girl attempting to elope with your fantasy prince charming?
“I think you are sorelymisunderstanding the situation.”
“And I think you need to go back to whichever whorehouse he found you in and pretend that this was just a bad dream.”
You could do nothing to prevent your jaw from dropping at his words, utterly insulted. It was only when one of the crew attempted to roughly escort you off the ship that your mind finally caught up with your surroundings.
“Hey!” You flung the crewman’s hand from your arm and marched after the Italian. “Get your Captain’s Spanish arse out here before I have to go and get him myself, because I swear to god I will.”
Your threats were met with a raised eyebrow and another sigh.
“Ragazza, you’re really starting to piss me off.”
“Right back at you.”

You had very quickly lost your temper with the hot-headed Italian, and he with you. After heated words were no longer enough, he had begun cursing you out. You, of course, had returned this in full and so it was that the sound of blades clashing rang out across the deck. He had been surprised at first, clearly thinking that your blade was just for show, never for a moment believing that you actually knew how to use it. Taking advantage of this you swung at him savagely.
“See here Lovino.” You hissed as he blocked you yet again. “I’ve had a really bad day and right now I am just not in the mood.”
You were forced to step back, dancing away from the sharp edge of his weapon as it tore through the air. The two of you circled one another, the rest of the men on deck now no more than gaping spectators, as you searched for an opening to strike.
“You’re no armature ragazza.”
“Nor are you.” He scoffed at this.
“Vero, ma io sono un pirata. Chi cazzo sei?”
Decidedly, you didn’t like it when he spoke Italian. You didn’t know what he was saying and it irritated you. How were you supposed to come up with a witty retort if you couldn’t understand him? You got the feeling it wasn’t pleasant though, and that made you all the more furious.
You stalked slowly around the edge of your audience, never taking your eyes off your opponent. He was smaller than Allistor, with less power behind his strikes. That made him easier to block, but you didn’t have the advantage of speed as you would have done with the Scotsman; when it came to agility it seemed you had met your match.
You lunged at him again, but metal hit metal with a spark. You growled, he smirked, and a slow applause broke the two of you apart. If possible, Lovino’s frown from earlier appeared with more intensity than before. You, on the other hand, sheathed your blade with an irate huff.
“It’s about bloody time Carriedo.”
“Lo siento sirena, pero you fight with all the ferocity of the sea. It was captivating.”
“How poetic.”
“I am a romantic at heart.” He shrugged with a light-hearted laugh and turned to the man who stood beside you, looking between his Captain and your own figure with bewilderment. “You shouldn’t draw your sword on a woman, Lovi.”
“Don’t call me Lovi dammit! E che cazzo vuoi dire con ‘sirena’? Chi è questa ragazza comunque?” This outburst of Italian earned him a light whack around the back of the head from Antonio.
“Lovi! Don’t use that language around a lady. As for who, mi sirena is mi sirena!” He beamed like a child, as if those words explained everything. You could hardly blame Lovino for the combined look of confusion and anger.
“Antonio, if you wouldn’t mind could we continue this conversation elsewhere?” You nodded towards the crew who were still loitering around, curiosity evident on their faces. With a smile, the Spaniard guided both you and Lovino into his cabin.

A/n
Hey guys! I said Tuesday, I know, I'm sorry it's late... but hey, at least you get Romano to make up for it right?

Translations
¿Quién diablos es esta perra?Who the hell is this bitch?
Oi puta! Oi whore!
¿Quién carajo te crees que eres?Who the fuck do you think you are?
Lovino, e tu? Lovino, and you?
Vero, ma io sono un pirata. Chi cazzo sei? True, but I'm a pirate. Who the fuck are you? 
E che cazzo vuoi dire con 'sirena'? Chi è questa ragazza comunque? And what the fuck do you mean by 'siren'? who is this girl anyway?