Here there be pirates

Chapter 1

Alfred and Matthew had always been told by their father to watch out for pirates when they went out to fish in their little boat. Often, the boys had shrugged it off, taken it as a joke and one of the tales that the old men told in the bar at the port. But it had always stuck with the older brother, even after their father had died when the boys were both in their late teens, the saying had stuck. Watch out for pirates. Alfred and Matthew only had each other anymore and their little boat which they lived upon. Fishermen by trade and good ones at that, the brothers were a good team.

“Hey, Alfie?” asked Matthew, jolting the American from his reveries.

“Yo, lil’ bro?” The two were further out to sea than they had ever been to fish.

“What’s that in the distance?” the younger brother pointed into the horizon, causing Alfred to squint through his glasses.

“I dunno… Looks like another ship.” The American shrugged and went to check that the anchor is down. Neither of them noticed the ship slowly approaching until they could see its flag. The Jolly Roger, or the pirate’s flag. Watch out for pirates. But by then, it was too late for the brothers to flee, their small boat having nothing like the power of the incoming vessel. Before they knew what was going on, Alfred and Matthew were gazing up at the huge ship, gulping. THUD. Matthew screamed. Alfred spun and came face to face with a giant of a man with flaming red hair and a hook for a hand, wearing a cocky smirk. THUD. Dry mouthed, the American pulled his little brother behind him as a brown haired man joined the red-head. Ears pierced all the way up the side, bare chested with a few scars adorning it, this man was just as terrifying as the first.

“Looke what we have here,” purred the red-head, voice thickly laced with a Scottish accent.

“Aww, Allie, leave them alone, they’re only kids,” remanded the second one.

“Cap’n said breeng the crew. And the cargo, so call Feen and get heem to come and get the cargo. E’ll take these two to the Cap’n.” Alfred flinched as the cold metal of the red-head’s hook touched against his neck as the pirate dragged the brothers up the lowered gangplank to the waiting ship.

“Cap’n!” hollered the Scotsman and Alfred caught a glimpse of a third pirate, also red-headed and scarred scurrying down the gangplank to help the brown-haired one. Then he was being shoved to his knees and he heard Matthew whimper beside him as he received the same treatment. Clack. Clack. Clack. The sound of boots on hard wood and then a hand in his hair, yanking his head up. Terrified blue eyes met one vibrant green; the other covered by a black eye patch but above and below the patch shone the white lines of scarring. Alfred couldn’t look away; the pirate’s striking eye was too bright, so green like a burning or bubbling vat of poison. He was intoxicated. But it was all over too soon; his hair was released and his head dropped. Then there was a voice, soft almost, with a lilting English accent.

“Gilbert, take these two down to Roderich, they look like they need it.” The American’s heart crawled into his throat as he heard an odd but sinister laugh.

“Ja, of course, Cap’n.” Another thickly accented voice, but Alfred couldn’t quite place where it came from. He felt another hand grasp his shirt and drag him up. From the soft squeak beside him, he assumed Matthew had the same. As they were dragged into the bellows of the ship, the older brother snuck a glance back at the pirate leading them down. White hair, red eyes and fearsome scar lacing across his cheek from his hairline to his jaw. Alfred was, to put it bluntly, fucking petrified.