(no subject)
Dec. 17th, 2005 01:15 am
Title: Pirates
Pairing: Nick/Greg, Ricardo/Archie
Rating: NC-17 in some chapters and I'm too lazy to rate each one
Disclaimer: Most characters are property of CBS et al, and I don't own them or make money off them. Although I wouldn't mind taking to the high seas and plundering them. OK, not all of them. OK, Greg. So don't sue, here be monsters. Got no booty.
AU: Completely and wildly AU, doesn't even take place in this century.
Dedicated to
Beta and semi-collab by
Chapter 1/35
From Idea by Michael Drayton (1563-1631)
LIKE an adventurous seafarer am I,
Who hath some long and dangerous voyage been,
And, called to tell of his discovery,
How far he sailed, what countries he had seen.
Proceeding from the port whence he put forth,
Shews by his compass how his course he steered,
When East, when West, when South, and when by North,
As how the Pole to every place was reared,
What capes he doubled, of what Continent,
The gulfs and straits that strangely he had past,
Where most becalmed, where with foul weather spent,
And on what rocks in peril to be cast.
Thus in my love, Time calls me to relate
My tedious travels and oft-varying fate.
Chapter One
“So you’re off again, my son?”
Lt Gregory Sanders looked into the smiling blue eyes of his mentor and preceptor, Father Grissom and nodded. “Tomorrow morning. We shall be at sea for at least three months.”
“Without coming in to port at all?” Father Grissom asked.
“We will put in somewhere, but most likely not here in Prince William Sound,” Gregory responded in his soft voice. “I shall miss you.”
“And I, you. But we knew this would be the consequence of the path you have chosen.” Father Grissom spoke temperately but with affection to the boy he had known and guided since infancy.
“I love the sea.” Gregory’s head turned as if pulled inexorably by the lure of the ocean, visible through the vista of the trees surrounding the orphanage where he grew up.
“Yes, from the first time you ran away, I knew I would always find you down on the docks, mingling with the scaff and raff, or on the beach,” chuckled Father Grissom. “But it did you no harm and seemingly you are suited to life in the Royal Navy.” His unspoken question hung in the air between them.
Gregory thought for a moment. “I have always ached with longing when I look at the sea, a desire to fly with the wild birds and see where it leads me. The song of the wind at sea is one I have not heard anywhere else. The horizon beckons and I would see what lies beyond it. I feel… free on the deck of a ship.”
“Tell me what you have seen, my son.”
“I have seen the ocean in all her moods, intense blue that rivals the sky when she is gay, grey and sullen with anger, deep purple and green in a fierce tempest, slate blue and flat with calm. I have seen dolphins dance with the ship, staying apace and leaping with joy from the ocean amongst the white crests of the waves. I have seen the sun rise and set, with every colour of the artist’s palette and a rainbow hanging in the mists that sheet across the sky. I have seen the light of God, shining from behind massed clouds and felt his presence.”
“God is with us everywhere in his creations and I am gratified that you have chosen a life that grants you such visions. I pray that you will be able to keep your faith in your heart no matter what may come to pass.” He placed his hand on Gregory’s head and blessed him. He did not wish to share the apprehension he always experienced when Gregory started on yet another journey, but he feared for the young man. The dangers at sea were myriad and threatened not only his life, but his body, his heart and his soul.
Father Grissom looked into the lovely deep chocolate eyes, fringed lushly with thick lashes, and knew that although twenty-one years of age, the boy’s sleeping nature had not yet awakened. His innocence still shone unmarred in those eyes, unconsciously seeking his destiny. Father Grissom prayed that he had made the right decision in permitting Gregory to follow his yearning for a life upon the ocean. Gregory was the most promising student he’d ever had, adept in the sciences but with a sensibility that enabled him to understand and appreciate music and literature. Father Grissom had hoped– but it was not to be.
“Will you join me for some tea?”
“Yes, I thank you,” Gregory smiled at the older man affectionately as he answered.
“Even if Sir Conrad were to join us?” Father Grissom asked slyly.
Gregory jumped up from his chair. “He is not here, is he? Please, I would much prefer–”
“I know that you would as lief not meet him, but he has come especially to take his leave of you at your departure. He has always had your interests at heart and seems to hold you dear.”
“I know,” Gregory responded in a troubled voice. “I hear the words you speak but I do not feel it to be true. I am uneasy in his presence though I know not why I should be.”
“Nor I,” Father Grissom said, “Come, help me with the trays. It will not be so bad nor will it be for long. Then you have at least three months without his company.” Or mine, he thought uneasily. He, too, did not trust the interest Sir Conrad had always vouchsafed in Gregory, but without actual evidence to support his intuition, felt it unseemly to intervene.
Gregory aided Father Grissom to lay the table on the small stone terrace overlooking the ocean through a tangle of fuchsia bougainvillea blossoms. Whilst he was still busy at his task, a young boy led Sir Conrad out to the terrace and announced his presence.
“Gregory, my boy!” Sir Conrad surged forward and took Gregory by both shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes. “This is an unexpected treat.”
“Hardly, when you pressed me for intelligence of his leaving,” muttered Father Grissom sarcastically.
Sir Conrad made as if he had not heard, and continued to pat Gregory in a way that put him in mind of a farmer feeling a pig to see if was worth his money, ignoring the young man’s squirms under his hand. “Tell me where you are going on this voyage? I own, I am surprised that my dear old friend here would permit you to sail; he was always used to be so concerned about your future and whereabouts. And now there is no telling where you might be at any given moment. A delightful vagabond existence! I declare I envy you and perhaps one day soon will sail with you so that I may share in your adventures.” All was said with an arch look, evenly distributed between the young Lt and the priest.
Father Grissom turned away and rolled his eyes. So it always was with Sir Conrad. An established gentleman of leisure and business, his benevolence was unarguable, but although he gave to the orphanage the proper tithe for a man of his consequence, it was not until Gregory Sanders was brought there that his interest became so… personal. This was one reason Father Grissom felt easier about Gregory when he was safely on board ship.
He watched as Gregory responded politely but with reserve, the fastidiousness inherent in his nature causing him to withdraw instinctively from the unctuous civility that marked the conversation of Sir Conrad.
~*~
“At last,” Gregory sighed to himself as he approached his ship. Although saddened to take leave of Father Grissom, he held no other regret in leaving the town behind him. His longing for the sea made prolonged stays on land irksome; he had friends but none so close that missing them would prevent his travels. And though many a fair lass had looked upon him with a merry eye, none had so far taken his fancy. He wondered at himself sometimes; many of his fellow students were already settled with wife and child. Perhaps it was his inclination to be on the deck of a ship; wives were said not to hold with a sea-faring man unless they, too, felt the call of ocean in their blood.
He spoke with the crew on guard and went below to report to his captain, attending him in his cabin. The captain ordered him to the helm for the night watch and Lt Gregory Sanders went above decks to take the wheel, giving his orders to the men. As the sails unfurled lazily above, blanking out the night sky, the crew cast off the lines from the dock and with much creaking amongst the masts, the HMS Silver Swan moved with the wind out of the bay and onto the open sea.
Gregory had not only received training in the use of the compass and astrolabe during the time of his service, but of far greater value, had studied the stars and constellations with Father Grissom. His familiarity with the movement of the stars concurrent with the seasons, combined with his expertise with the astrolabe, had made him a superior navigator. Using the charts in the forward cabin, he’d plotted the course desired by the captain and sailed out into the moonlight dazzled water, under both fore and main sails.
The watch was uneventful and when relieved of duty, Gregory went below to his tiny cabin, hardly more than a bunk, said his prayers and went to sleep as the blood red sun rose in the east.
~*~
At the first sound of the guns Gregory came awake and bolted from his bunk, still clad in his shirt and breeches. He stamped on his boots, and pausing only to arm himself with his sword and pistol, raced to the deck, where the crew were already engaged with an invading force. Pirates from the look of them; no uniforms, but a force to be reckoned with nonetheless; able-bodied and experienced at fighting.
Lt Sanders joined the fray immediately, beating back one sailor pressing hard on his captain. “Thankee, lad,” he heard the captain growl. He had no time to reply, unaware that this was the last time he would hear the older man’s voice. Gregory fought hard, as did his compatriots but the tide of battle swung in the favor of the pirates, who outnumbered the navy crew.
Gregory found himself fighting a bulky man with two gold teeth in his mouth, revealed by his grin as he thrust and parried. Gregory gauged the man’s balance and speed, noticing that he pressed his weight back on his heels and telegraphed his thrusts by dropping his shoulder. Trusting to his own training and experience, he waited for the tell-tale signal and parried the man’s blade with lighting speed, slipping through to plunge his blade deep while his opponent’s blade passed harmlessly over his right shoulder. The pirate grimaced and fell mortally wounded at Gregory’s feet.
The Lt rebuffed an attack from another man with a short sword, his own longer blade giving him a definitive advantage; which he pressed mercilessly. The sailor with the short sword was growing arm weary, his tip of his weapon continually dropping, allowing Gregory to hack his blade down. He advanced, driving the man back, and back again, finally pinking him in the shoulder, causing him to drop his sword with a clatter on the deck.
Gregory turned to wade into a mêlée, attracting the attention of a swarthy muscular man with a gold earring. The man was sucking for air, but fought gamely. He stumbled and fell suddenly, clearing the way for another blade plunging wildly toward Gregory. He parried quickly and leaped away, but the blade bit deep into his right shoulder causing his sword to drop from his weakened grasp.
Blood reddened the white of his shirt as he fell to his knees, groping for his sword. Gregory staggered gamely to his feet, sword in one hand and pistol in the other. He raised his pistol to shoot when a burst of pain exploded in his head and his vision swam. He fell senseless to the deck.
~*~
When Lt Gregory Sanders regained consciousness his head and shoulder pained him and he was lying flat on his back on the deck. Looking up, he saw sails he did not recognize. He felt the swell of the ocean roll the boat in a different way than that to which he was accustomed. He heard the moans and cries of wounded men and rolled to see if he could render some assistance, realizing for the first time that his hands were tied together. He recognized First Mate Archibald Johnson, arms bound but appearing otherwise unharmed, sitting on the deck leaning against a mast.
“Archie,” he called softly.
“Lt, Sir!” Archie responded smartly, jerking his bound hands, forgetting that he was unable to salute. “Are you well, sir?”
“I believe so,” Gregory lied. He felt dizzy and his headache was growing worse. “Who survived?”
Archie swallowed but his face remained impassive. “Only seven, sir. You, the Second Mate, four hands and I.”
“The captain?” Archie shook his head. “The ship?” Archie nodded to the east, “Smoking and sinking, sir.” Both men looked somber as they contemplated their uncertain future in silence.
The pirates hoisted their captives to their feet, wounded or whole, without much particularity as to how the wounded were handled. Groans and an occasional cry was heard as the men were dragged to their feet, but Lt Sanders made not a sound, conscious of his position as ranking officer of the pitiful remnants of his crew. They were lined up in a ragged row, readied for inspection by their captors.
A handsome well-built man with black hair, moustache and goatee, and white teeth flashing in his sun-kissed face stood laughing as he surveyed the men. At his side was a tall African man, with brilliant green eyes, towering over the other man by several inches.
“A good haul, Ricardo,” the dark haired man laughed. “Some would bring a good price at market. What say you?”
“Aye, Captain, well worth checking this merchandise,” called out the man named Ricardo.
“I see a few pigeons worth the plucking,” the captain said as he lifted Archie’s chin to look closely at his face.
“Perhaps we could assist you in the enquiry,” came a ribald comment and a murmur of agreement arose from the massed battery of pirate hands. A quick nod of approbation from the captain and the horde pulled the navy officers and crew into the swirling mob. Gregory felt hands roaming his body, pulling at his clothing and knocking him off his feet. He struggled in vain as he was manhandled, passing helplessly from man to man in the crowd, his hands bound uselessly behind his back.
“Hold, men!” The captain sprang into the midst of the group. “That one, I’ll have that one for myself!” He pointed at Gregory with his short sword. The men holding him immediately righted him and jostled him forward to stand before their captain. The captain put the point of his sword under Gregory’s chin. Gregory froze to attention, wary of startling his captor into rash action. The captain lifted Gregory’s chin with the flat of his blade. “Yes,” he said softly, “I’ll keep this one for myself… ’till I weary of him. You may do as you like with the rest.”
A cheer rose amongst his men as the navy crew huddled together as much as was possible. “After!” The pirates’ cheer faded away sullenly, “After we hoist sail and put as much distance between ourselves and this latitude by sundown as is possible. Take them below.”
The captain turned and walked to the wheel, accompanied by Ricardo, not waiting to ascertain that his commands were obeyed, which they were, promptly, Gregory was interested to notice. Rough hands seized him and hustled him below. He saw his men cast two by two into various cells. Gregory was thrust into a cell alone and his arms were untied and then chained through the grill at the top of his cage, forcing his hands over his head, paining his wounded shoulder. He sank against the foul-smelling straw, trying to gain some purchase to ease the drag on his shoulder but could find no comfortable position. His captor grinned and aimed a kick at his thigh before withdrawing, shutting the iron door behind him with a resounding clang.
Just as Gregory thought he could feel no worse, the pirate returned and slid a small bucket of water through the grille and grinned at him. “In case you thirst,” he sneered and left.
“Are you well, Lt?” came Archie’s anxious voice.
“Aye,” Greg roused himself to sound as cheerful and confident as possible. “And yourselves? No further injury I trust?”
“No, sir,” came the answer.
“All sharing a cell, look to each other’s wounds and comfort. We will see each other through this, no matter what comes,” Greg ordered cheerily. “Have you water?”
“Aye, sir,” various voices answered. Gregory listened as the men conversed quietly amongst themselves amid rustling noises as they made nests for themselves in the straw, preparing to make the best of it. Although he was the youngest of the survivors from his ship, he yet outranked them and it was his responsibility to look after their well-being.
Only when the sounds of their settling died away did his thoughts return to his own plight. His head throbbed and his shoulder was wet, an indication that his wound was still bleeding. He could not reach the water because of the way his hands were chained. The situation seemed hopeless. As heavily guarded and imprisoned as they were, even if they were to able to break free, there was nowhere to run to in the middle of the ocean.
The thought of being offered for sale at a slave market did not appeal to him, nor did a questionable service with the captain who had appeared to claim him, for what reason Gregory did not know. He could not suppose that this able captain needed his expertise with navigation and even if he did, that expertise was not writ large upon his forehead, so he had no key to unlock the mystery of the man’s words.
As his wound and loss of blood began to claim him, he allowed his head to sag. He could not ease the painful drag on his wrists but he settled into a fitful and uncomfortable slumber, hoping to forget his situation for at least a short span. Finally he slept.
no subject
Date: 2005-12-17 09:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 09:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-17 01:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 09:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-17 11:46 pm (UTC)Master and Commander is one of my favourite book series.
I have read thousand of pages about Gentlemen in breeches and sailors in shoregoing attire.
I cannot believe that you have actually combined my favourite pair with my favourite historical topic.
So are we to see some sodomites in action?
This will be updates eagerly awaited.
/A
no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 09:37 am (UTC)As for your banner; it doesn't show!
I hope that it is an error by photobucket and that we'll get to see it soon.
I can't wait for what happens next, this is so promising.
/A
no subject
Date: 2005-12-19 07:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 03:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 03:41 am (UTC)There's just something about a shipful of needy pirates that speaks to me in a profound sort of way... XD
Looking forward to the next 34 chapters!
no subject
Date: 2005-12-18 09:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 06:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 06:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-12-20 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-17 07:55 am (UTC)Sorry, I just saw it here and got really happy.
I heart this fic so much!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-18 03:50 pm (UTC)