Threads

Chapter Seventeen: Part 3

“Captain!” the man was yelling, “I found something for yah. It be better than ale!”

            “Nothing’s better then ale,” a deep voice said and the captain turned from where he was standing at the great wheel of the ship.

            Alice gawked, open mouthed at him.  He was dressed from top to toe in pirate finery.  Everything from his hat and braided, dreadlocked hair to his leather boots and double curved swords over both his shoulders. But she didn’t stare because he cut a fine figure.  She stared because of his features - dirty blonde hair, angled cheek bones and startling blue eyes in a tanned face. Why does the “pirate of my dreams” look so much like Altair?

            The Altair look-a-like blinked at her, his eyebrows shot up. “You made a discovery I see, Bins.”

            “I did.” The so-called Bins let go of her arm, and Alice stepped away from him, glaring at the group of dirty, sneering men surrounding her.

             “Back off.”

            The captain tilted his head back and bellowed laughter. He winked at his crew mates.       “Watch out! She’s feisty.”

            Alice stepped back as the captain came striding down the stairs to where she stood on the deck. He reached out and grabbed her chin before she could stop him, forcing her to look up, tilting her face this way and that.

            “She’s not too bad looking…”

            “Stop that!” She knocked his hand away angrily. “Don’t touch me.”

            “This is my ship now.” He smirked at her. “You’ll have to tame that temper, love.”

            He turned to his fellows. “Get her ready to sail boys, we need to be on the islands by morning.”

            He spun and grabbed Alice’s waist, and in spite of her indignant struggles, hoisted her up over one shoulder. 

            “No!” Alice shrieked, pounding futilely on his broad back. “Put me down!”

            “Will do, love.” He chuckled. “In just a minute.” He strode across the deck and into the cabin, slamming the double doors shut behind him, nearly smacking Alice on the head as he did so.

            “Watch out!” she snapped. “Put me down!”

            He dumped her unceremoniously on the large feather bed in the center of the room.  Then he turned and perched himself on the edge of the table and began spearing grapes with a long silver knife, popping them into his mouth one by one as he stared at her. Alice glared at him, wishing she could convey the depths of her loathing with one look.  She could tell her hair was a terrible mess and the bodice of her dress had been tugged off center, but she refused to suffer the indignity of fixing it in front of him. She attempted to remain calm in spite of his unnerving, blue-eyed stare.

I’m not sure if I like how intensely he resembles Altair. They could be twins…

            “What’s your name, pirate?” She nearly smiled at her turn of phrase and how haughty it sounded. How many old pirate movies had she seen by now? If she was going to play the part of damsel in distress, she might as well play it well.

            “Captain Adrian Rothgaurd.” the man swept his hat off to her, mockingly it seemed.

Rothgaurd? Way too close for comfort. Is this what my mind came up with? Not amusing.

            He must have taken her critical glance the wrong way, because his eyes darkened momentarily, and he set his feet down on the floor with a thump. When he moved towards her he jingled with each step, whether it was all the beads and coins in his hair, or the stolen coins in his pockets, she didn’t know.

            “Perhaps you’ve never heard of me, and that’s why you look so disdainful,” he growled.

            “You’re a pirate.” Alice narrowed her eyes at him. “Why should I have heard of you?”
            He halted in front of her, forcing her to look up at him from where she sat on the bed.

            “You’re right, of course you wouldn’t have heard of anything outside your little world. You’re a spoilt little girl, the daughter of a duke.”

            “Am I?” Alice said, surprised.

            Captain Adrian’s eyes narrowed, as if unsure what game she was playing at.

            Oops, I guess I am.

            “I’m certainly not spoiled,” she amended.

The captain shook his head, coins jingling. He glared at her, inches away from her face.     “Spoilt, irritating little brat who grew up in a privileged house. I’ve seen your type.” He lowered himself onto the bed across from her.

            I think I’m supposed to slap him now. Maybe? She took a gamble, drawing her hand back, but he seemed to anticipate it and grabbed her wrist, leaning in even closer to hiss at her.

            “I’m sure you hit your maids, but I’m not the hired help. I’m not someone you can walk over this time, rich girl.”

            Alice tried to ignore the fact that his lips were inches away from her own. “I never hit anyone, but you I would make an exception for.”

            “How sad you can’t protect yourself without daddy.” He sneered in her face. “And now, you’re at the mercy of someone your illustrious father would love to hang. The picnic is over for you, sweetheart. You can’t have your way anymore,” he growled. “You’re on my ship now. I think you’ll find that getting what you want ends today. Here I make up the rules, and I get what I want.”

            Alice was out of dialogue. She wracked her brain desperately for what she should say next, but it had been so long since she’d seen a pirate movie, or a romantic movie for that matter. He took her breathless silence for defeat and smirked at her, though his voice was softer now, and she flinched, startled, as he reached one hand out to touch her cheek.

            “Ah, she goes so quickly from a raging tiger to a mouse.”

            She was shocked into further silence as his other hand wrapped around her waist. Pulling her into him, he dipped his head to kiss her, his braids brushing her throat as he did so. She stiffened with surprise, and he murmured against her mouth,

            “Get used to it, Alice.”

            Her eyes opened wide in shock.  She was back in her bedroom again; it looked like she had run a marathon in her sleep, her bed sheets in a tangle around her legs.  Alice gasped, her hand on her forehead. That last moment, when he’d spoken, she was sure it was Altair. Somewhere along the line, he had ceased being some made up dream man and become Altair.

“No way, that’s not possible.”

            My mind is just creating a look-a-like. That’s all. Oh no, is it possible? It can’t be. You can’t share a dream. But it felt so real and if it was Altair….She glanced down at her bracelet, as if looking for some sort of explanation from Aunt Ruby to come channelling through it. The heart charm was glistening silver again.

            “Not possible,” she whispered, shutting her eyes.

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