Hi lovely fans and first time readers,
This chapter is has been fully edited as of the 30th April 2021. Thank-you for your understanding, and I apologize for any inconsistencies moving forward. I hope you continue to enjoy APK :)
Also, I am leaving the small, original Authors Note below - because these two fans still deserve their shoutout <3 Thankyou for your support @bhtwizzler and @RoxyRose
(Original AN: My first EVER banner has been designed by bhtwizzler and i LOVE IT so this chapter is dedicated to her :) Also special shout-out to RoxyRose who set me the challenge of using kick ass Pirate swear words without making my characters sound like poofs )
Thankyou for your continued support,
Love Always,
Daisy x
____________________________
Chapter Six | Bottle of Rum
*
'You are being
presented with
two choices.
Evolve
or
R e p e a t.'
-unknown
*
CIRCE
"How is she?"
"Fine, no thanks to you."
"Nobody said you had to come to the party, Hobbs and myself would have managed perfectly fine-
"Don't be ridiculous, you were drunk before we even made it in the door" the deep tone turned scathing. "If I hadn't come along to keep an eye on your son of a biscuit eating ass, I wouldn't have been able to step in for you and we wouldn't have this girl."
There was a pause and then the same voice continued.
"Which by the way, you still need to explain to me WHY exactly we kidnapped this girl from her Father in the middle of her birthday celebrations. Not that I'm one to judge exactly, but don't you usually go for the more experienced types? And if she's stuck on our ship, I hardly think she's going to be a one night fling, unless you plan on tossing her overboard when you done, which is harsh Bones, even for you."
"Are you quite finished?" The first voice spoke again, the tone arrogant.
"No I'm not 'quite finished' you insolent dog! Where the fuck is she supposed to sleep? Did you even realize she is the only woman on a ship full of superstitious Pirates?!"
"Well she can sleep in your bed then!"
"She's not sleeping in my bed!" The second voice hissed in annoyance, "Why can't she sleep in yours!"
"Because I'm not the one who is so worried about her! And anyway," the first voice became smug, "I'm the Captain."
"Don't you pull out that 'I'm the bloody Captain' excuse on me! Your the one that kidnapped her! You take responsibility. "
"Well your the one that made her faint!"
The second voice was outraged. "That was YOUR fault, don't try to blame it on me! YOU stressed her out so much, you and your blasted wild rantings! If you can't learn to control yourself then so help me I will-
"You'll do what exactly little brother?" There was a derisive snort, "You and I both know you are incapable of following through on that threat. Tell me I'm wrong. And while we are speaking of threats, you had better remember who you are talking to. We may be related, but I am still the Captain on this ship. What I say, goes. Understood?"
"Fine. Have it your way, but she's still not my problem."
A door slammed bringing an abrupt end to the hushed conversation.
I was becoming more aware of my surroundings by the second, my breathing quiet as I waited for any sign of movement within the room. I was in bed again, the mattress firm beneath me, the blankets warm above. Too warm. I shifted uncomfortably.
Unsure if there was any one left in the room - or even if there had been anyone there to begin with, I remained hidden under the covers for a moment longer. My heart was thundering in my chest, louder than my breathing and I patted my fingers over it, willing myself to calm down. It was going to be okay. I had to believe that.
The ceiling above me creaked suddenly and I tensed, before realizing it was the sound of people moving above. Muffled yelling echoed - from out on deck I presumed, and the ship continued to move around me, creaking like the bones of an old man.
Gathering my courage, I finally decided to risk it and cracked an eye open, surveying the room through half-shut lashes.
It was not the same room as before.
There was a lamp lit on the far wall, it's warm light illuminating my surroundings softly. A quick scan told me that there was no-one present, and I relaxed slightly, slowly sitting up - although my ears picked up every creak of the ship with wary anticipation - waiting for someone to burst through the door.
I slowly slid out from under the blankets, swinging my feet over the edge of the bed. Smooth, worn, wooden floorboards met my bare toes and I shivered.
Looking down at my attire, I was half pleased to see I was now wearing a night gown at least - while the other half of me was in horror at the thought of a stranger dressing me while I was sleeping. My lip curled in disgust, but then again, it was no better than being undressed - and that had already happened as well.
I rubbed cuff of the night gown between my thumb and forefinger, studying the lace absentmindedly. It was actually rather pretty - although it was no doubt stolen from somewhere.
I scowled.
Or someone.
Under the nightgown, I could feel my Father's letter still wedged into the waistband of my undergarments, one sharp corner digging into my hip - a comforting discomfort.
I hesitated to remove it in order to read it however - partially dreading what I would find inside.
The look that my Father had given me, the moment before I was taken ... he had known this was going to happen, of this, there was no doubt.
Did he truly feel so little for me? Was I such a painful reminder for him that he had to go to such lengths? In my heart, I knew this was not the case - but still, there was a small voice that told me what I feared was true.
The corners of my eyes stung with unshed tears, and I furiously wiped them away, glaring up at the ceiling as I sniffed heavily.
Had he known from the moment Hobbson and Cobalt had arrived? He had to have done. And yet he had continued the farce without pause. Without offering any sort of warning. The thought made me abruptly furious.
Father had watched me dance with Cobalt, watched me dance with him, and converse with him - however unwillingly - for the entire night. And he hadn't said a word.
"How could you do this to me?" I whispered angrily, my hands curling into fists. "What did I ever do to you?"
I stood up suddenly, unable to sit still for a moment longer. It was as though every thing had suddenly sunk in all at once.
I had been kidnapped. By pirates. There was no guarantee I was ever going to see my home - or my old life again. There was no guarantee I was even going to be alive tomorrow. I was on a ship going to god knows where - and I was not in control of anything, anything at all.
Worst of all - I couldn't even really say I had been kidnapped, more like sold out! Sold. Out. By my own Father!
I stared at the door, a sudden realization smacking me in the face like a cold, wet cloth. Had my Father known about it the first time? The first time that ... that Pirate Captain, whatever his name was, had come for me? Had Father known about that? Worse - had he sanctioned it?
I remembered back to the moment I had told him what had happened that night - the fear, worry, concern, that had rampaged across his face. The way he had held me, assured me that I was safe. The lengths he had gone to - to improve the guards around my room and below my balcony, to ensure the same thing would not happen again.
Had that all been a farce?
My hands trembled with rage. "How could he do this?" I hissed in fury, my voice building in the back of my throat. "How could you?!"
I wanted to scream from sheer frustration, my heart throbbing so fiercely that I felt it in my throat. I wanted to punch something, or throw something, or, or ... smash something!
Pacing furiously up and down the confined space, my eyes rampaged around the room before landing on an innocent looking bottle of rum sitting on the bed side table.
I stopped in front of it, breathing heavily, and staring down at the unassuming bottle. Now that I looked more closely - there were actually two bottles. Two.
"Who the fuck, has rum on their bedside table," I swore, my hand shooting out to snatch up the bottle. "Bloody, goddamn pirates!" I lifted the bottle with relish, holding it above my head with the full intention of smashing it on the opposite wall, when I had a sudden thought.
Pirates like Rum.
Slowly I lowered the bottle, grasping the smooth glass between both of my hands as I attempted to calm their trembling long enough to order my jumbled thoughts.
I didn't know how long I was going to live on this hell bound vessel, but one thing was certain in my mind. I was going to live. I would survive this. I didn't know yet - where or when I would be spat out at the other end - but I was not going to just roll over and die.
However, neither could I simply stay locked in one room or another the entire time - even if I didn't mind, if the conversation I had overheard was anything to go by, apparently the residents of the ship did - so I sure I was going to be kicked out of here sooner or later.
I steeled myself, my back straightening with (false) courage. Although I couldn't really afford to be picky in a scenario such as this. Courage was courage, false or not. And if it was false - well then I would just have to put on a convincing performance until it became truth.
I had survived back at home, hadn't I? Repelling the daily torments of my evil step-mother and her wicked minions? Florence's face suddenly popped into my head and I grimaced. Although, Florence was a troll, she was no pirate.
I remembered the feel of the cold steel blade that had been pressed to my neck on hours before and swallowed. As much as Florence had hated me - she never would have dared to go that far. And words - although hurtful - did not hold the fear of having your life put on the line.
I forced myself to put the memory aside for now - although I was afraid, fear was not going to help me escape.
Escaping ...
Is that really such a good idea?
My conscious told me no, while my stubbornness bluntly asked what else I thought I was going to do.
But as I sat back down on the edge of the bed, the trembling in my fingers began again and I clutched the bottle of rum a little more tightly.
I had no other option. If I didn't plan something - if I didn't seek some sort of freedom, or hold out some faint hope - then what was the point? Wasn't I just waiting for death, or whatever other horrible thing they had planned for me?
I sighed shakily and stared down at the bottle in my hands, half entertaining the idea of just getting drunk.
But no, I gritted my teeth together. I couldn't do that.
Get a grip on yourself Circe, I thought furiously, what did Hobbson say? Something about a port ...
Thinking back, Hobbson had indeed mentioned that they were low on stocks. After they had exhausted their resources bombing my home no doubt, I thought with a scowl.
But what that meant, was that eventually, this ship would make port. Making port meant that - as long as I played my cards right, I could potentially go ashore. And going ashore meant that there would be the inevitable chance for me to escape.
And what then? The small seed of doubt whispered in the back of my mind. Even if you manage to find your way back home, there is no guarantee that your Father would want you. My heart throbbed at the thought.
"I'll figure that out when I come to it," I muttered, before realizing that I was in fact, talking to myself.
I shrugged. Oh well, I'm on a ship full of looneys anyway, I thought dejectedly. Might as well start early.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of distant voices growing closer to my room and I rose swiftly from the bed, the bottle of rum still clutched in my hands. Glancing around quickly for somewhere to hide, I panicked when I realized that - shy of climbing under the bed - the sparse furnishings and smaller quarters provided absolutely no cover for a medium sized girl.
The footsteps drew closer and, all out of options, I pressed myself up against the wall behind the door, before remembering the temper that had been unleashed upon the last door - and deciding that, if I wanted to avoid becoming a door sandwich, then it might be a better idea to wait on the other side.
Pressing my body up against the wall as flat as I could go, I realized I was holding the rum bottle like a weapon and stared at my own hands, slightly aghast. Just what was I even planning to do with that? Knock someone out?!
"Do you think she's awake yet? I-
I let out a squeak of surprise as the door suddenly swung open, and before I even realized what I was doing, the bottle in my hands had swung and I cracked it down with force over top of the first head that walked into the room.
The bottle shattered, and the figure collapsed onto the ground in a puddle of rum.
I held the broken end of the bottle in one hand, my other hand reaching up to cover my mouth as I stared down at the prone form at my feet with wide eyes. Was it too late to apologize? Probably.
My eyes darted over to the last bottle of rum standing on the bedside table, and in that moment, I decided to just take my own advice, and put on a show.
Still gripping the broken bottle, I dived for the bed, grabbing the other rum bottle firmly before spinning back around to face the man still standing in the open doorway, with what I hoped was a look of confidence on my face.
"This is the last bottle of rum in the room, and possibly in the ship. If you don't want it to go to waste, you will do what I say." I said smugly, while inside I was screaming in panic. This is never going to work, you idiot!
A mismatched pair of gold and silver eyes blinked languidly at me with a cat like laziness. "Hobbs," Obsidian called, looking over his shoulder at the man I could not see, "Exactly how much rum do we have left on board the ship?"
"Well ... I think your brother had the last two bottles, Captain," came the grizzled answer from somewhere behind the broad shouldered figure now looming in front of me, "but I've given the crew a heading for Port Savannah. We'll be loading up ship then. Why are ya asking now lad?"
"Oh no reason," Obsidian replied mildly, eyeing his brothers passed out state and I continued to stare at him in a state of suspended horror. My confidence was beginning to wane slightly and I gritted my teeth. With his brother knocked out at his feet, how could he be so calm? Just how heartless was this person exactly? "How long before we make port?"
"At least three days Captain."
"Very good Hobbs, back to work."
I could hear the uncertainty in Hobbson's voice as he cautiously voiced a question. "Are you sure you don't be needing any help with the lass?"
Obsidian's face was still blank, but his animalistic eyes were dangerously calm as he held my gaze unwaveringly, and repeated his earlier sentence, the words now holding slightly more weight.
"Back to work Hobbs."
I swallowed.
Behind Obsidian, I heard Hobbson muttered something under his breath before the words 'very good Captain', came floating over Obsidian's shoulder and the old man's shuffling gait was heard disappearing off down the hallway.
Stepping further into the room, Obsidian Bones clenched one tanned hand around the edge of the door as he shoved his brothers body out of the way with his foot, before closing the door with a snap. He looked down at Cobalt's unconcious form with distain and gave him another gentle nudge with his boot.
"Bloody hell, what a waste of rum," he muttered, before stepping over his twin and looking back up at me.
The small room meant that we were suddenly in close proximity to each other, and flustered, I stumbled back another few steps - broken bottle of rum still brandished defiantly in the pirate's direction.
Unfortunately for me, I forgot that the bed was behind me, and my calves hit the edge suddenly, causing me to lose my balance and topple backwards. With my hands somewhat occupied and apparently too stubborn to let go of my weapon/ bargaining chip, a fall was inevitable.
However, before I could land flat on my back, a hand shot out to catch my wrist and halt my fall with a jolt.
I glared up at the pirate as he stared coolly back down at me, one arm extended as he held me in place.
"Let go of me," I spat out.
He raised an eyebrow. "As you wish," he said, and released his grip.
The air huffed out me as my back met mattress - my arms still awkwardly extended out in front of me as I tried my best to keep both the broken bottle, and the unbroken one out of harms way.
Without a moment to even catch my breath, I suddenly found myself in an even more dangerous situation, as the bed dipped due to a sudden weight. I suddenly found myself far too close to the person I had been trying to distance myself from.
My cheeks flushed with the sheer audacity of the situation, as he leaned closer, his luminescent eyes uncomfortably intense. Realizing that I had held onto my weapon for just such an occasion, I wasted no time in brandishing the broken bottle at him.
"Get back," I warned, "back, or I'll stab you with this."
His previously unreadable gaze suddenly became full of amusement. He gave a low chuckle as he leaned away to avoid the bottle, his lips curling into a smirk. "Oh. Ferocious little kitten has found herself some claws," he all but purred, "unfortunately for you Princess, I'm not convinced you know how to use them."
I struggled to sit back up, and push myself further away from him at the same time - but the soft mattress hindered my movements. "I can use it if I have to," I hissed, "I stabbed you before - with the scissors, or don't you remember?"
In a blink, the amusement had vanished from his eyes and before I even realized, he had caught my wrist, his large hands wrapping around it easily as he squeezed. The sudden pressure caused an abrupt pain to shoot up my wrist and I gasped, unintentionally letting go of the bottle.
I tried to twist out of his grasp, but he suppressed me easily and I was pressed backwards into the bed as I tried to put more distance between us, my now empty hand pinned by my shoulders.
His mismatched eyes were half concealed as he studied me from under hooded lids, his lips slackening out from his smirk to create a firm line as his jaw clenched unconsciously.
"You and I remember different things from that night, sweetheart," he murmured lowly. There was a teasing lilt to his words that told me he was merely toying with me, but his words had already done their job - jogging my other memories of that night.
I scowled, even as a flush spread embarrassingly across my cheekbones, my ears growing hot as I recalled the kiss he had stolen from me. Fervently, I struggled again under his grasp, but he merely placed more weight upon my arm, his other hand suddenly appearing to hold down my waist.
"That's because you are disgusting," I told him defiantly, even as my damn traitorous body told me otherwise, "and if you remember such a horrible thing over everything else, then that just proves I'm right." Damnit. I spoke the words, but with his stupidly handsome face hovering right in front of me, the insult just seemed to fall flat.
I could see he knew it too - the amusement was back in the slight curl of his lips.
"Oh, is that right?" He mused, his wandering hand lifting from my waist to skitter lightly up my side. His touch was barely there but I felt the skin beneath my clothing prickle with goosebumps. He was so close that I could see the small crease between his brows as he looked down at me broodingly. "Disgusting, am I?"
My lips parted, but my retort was lost as his face suddenly dipped towards mine and I inhaled sharply in shock. Traitorously, my chin lifted - a tiny movement, yet it did not go unnoticed and I heard him laugh lightly even as I blushed in mortification, gritting my teeth and twisting my head to the side.
He laughed louder at that, and suddenly pulled away.
My gaze snapped back to him, cautious of his next move - but had moved away properly now, rising from the bed to unscrew the lid of the bottle in his hand, tipping head back swig the liquor generously.
Wait ...
I looked at my now empty hands with a rising realization. I had been played.
"You -" I began furiously, but he waved a hand at me insolently, a wicked smirk dancing across his features.
"You should know better than to play with a pirate, Darling. What did you expect really?"
I scowled at him, hating his self-satisfied smugness. He merely laughed again, taking another swig of rum while his eyes remained trained on my face.
Forcing myself to accept defeat for the time being, I swallowed and cautiously rose from the bed, making sure to keep my distance. He studied my careful movements humorously, seeming rather relaxed in his appraisal.
And indeed, why should he even be on edge at all? I hadn't been much of a threat so far. My eyes inadvertently fell on the still prone from of his brother, lying on the floor. Well, to him at least.
"Why did you take me from my home?" I asked him angrily. "What do you want?"
His amused expression folded away and he slipped on another face - a smooth, indifferent mask. His eyes though, his eyes were calculating. He folded his arms across his broad chest, tucking the rum bottle snugly between them. "I need your necklace," he said casually.
His tone made it seem as though he was asking for something much more banal, like for me to open a window, or to pass a plate at the dinner table. Not like he was asking for a priceless treasure. And certainly not one he was supposed to know nothing about.
My hand unconsciously rose towards my neckline, before I remembered my mothers words and let my hand fall back to my side.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I blustered, but it was too late.
He closed the distance between us in a second, one palm flattening against my back to halt my retreat, his other hand rising - one finger looping under the chain around my neck and yanking until the gemstone at the end of it slid into the open.
"What are you doing," I struggled, trying snatch the jewel back, but he avoided my movements, lifting the chain up higher until the blue gemstone danced in front of his eyes.
"You are a terrible liar," he said, his mild tone a direct contrast to the intensity with which he was now staring at the jewel.
His mismatched eyes seemed to glow with the reflected light from the blue stone, and for a moment I forgot to struggle as I stared at him, a trickle of fear creeping up my spine. I recognized that look. It was similar to the crazed, almost deranged expression that had twisted his handsome features when he had appeared in front of me two years ago. And from memory, I knew I wanted no part of the person that came along with it.
He stared at the gemstone as though it contained the entire world, and he knew it was within his grasp. As though it was a slice of heaven and he was a man condemned to an eternity of hell. He let go of me to reach up with his free hand, and I went to stop him before he could touch it ... but instead he reached into the partially open neck of his white shirt, and pulled out something on a thin golden chain.
His eyes never left the blue sparkle that was dangling in front of him, but he slowly lowered my chain, wordlessly passing the gemstone to my waiting hand as he unfolded his own, and showed me what was nestled in the center of his palm.
I inhaled in shock, my eyes eating up the gemstone that was unveiled before me, sitting like a fat golden beetle, cradled in his hand. Beautiful threads of light appeared to be captured within the golden haze, immortalized in crystal, forever frozen in time.
Similar to my own gemstone, a darker shade saturated the edges, while a lighter hue filled the center - but unlike my flawless ocean of blue, this sea of gold was marred by an ugly wound of dark, almost red, gold that shot through the middle of the crystal.
Staring still, I could not help but wonder what had caused such a scar. The more I looked, the more the line seemed to warp and twist, the edges of the wound appearing to gap wider, as though it were trying to devour the rest of the jewel.
Unable to help myself, I reached out a hand to touch it. Just one touch. I suddenly had an irrational thought that - if I did - I would surely see something amazing.
Suddenly, the hand that was holding the pendant reached out to grasp my wrist, forcing it away and dropping the jewel at the same time. The golden pendant fell, but the length of chain pulled taunt, jerking it back and lifting me from the spell that had fallen over me without my realising.
I watched blankly as the pendant bounced once against his chest, before settling in the place where the open white collar of his shirt gave way to darker, bronzed skin.
Coming out of my trance, I glanced up in shock and was startled to find his face so close to my own.
His eyes were brooding as he looked down at me, and for some reason I held my breath, waiting for him to explain.
"Do not touch it," he said finally, his voice solemn for once. "If you did, it would not be a good thing for you. Or for me." He let go of my wrist and stepped back slightly. Suddenly I felt as though I could breathe again.
His mysterious eyes hovered on the jewel that was now hidden in my clenched hand. "You should not let anyone handle yours so easily either," he added, still sounding surprisingly serious.
I flushed, stuffing the necklace back into my bodice and trying not to notice the way his eyes followed my movements as I did. Folding my arms firmly across my chest, I glared at him defensively.
"You still haven't told me why I'm here," I said, determined to avoid whatever it was that had happened just now.
My words seemed to snap him out of his solemn state, and I was unsure whether or not that was a good thing - as now he seemed to be growing bored of the conversation, his eyes straying around the room restlessly.
"I told you, I need your necklace." He replied, his voice a little irate.
"Yes," I replied, my patronizing voice leaking through, "but that still doesn't tell me anything. If you needed my necklace, why didn't you just take it?" I pointed out, "Why did you have to drag me with it?" I couldn't help the slightly incredulous laughter that escaped my lips, "What, did you think I wanted to leave? Did you think I would thank you?"
His back was to me as he reached for the door handle, but at that - he turned to give me an appraising look. "You have a lot of questions," he said, "and you know what?" He opened the door and stepped backwards into the hallway, flashing me a devious grin, "I'm not really in the mood to answer any of them. If you don't already know, then I don't see why I should be bothered to tell you."
I stared at him agape, before stuttering forwards. "Wait-"
"Goodbye Beautiful."
My fists met wood instead of infuriatingly handsome pirate face and I let out a cry of frustration as I heard his amused chuckle on the other side of the door. A key turned in the lock as I rattled the door handle helplessly.
"I hope your realise you left your idiot brother in here with me," I fumed through the door, "do you really think that was a good idea?" I tried to sound threatening, but I think we both heard the emptiness in my words.
There was a moment of silence from the other side, and then a low chuckle that sent chills running through me echoed through the keyhole.
When he finally answered, he sounded far too amused for my liking. "Well then," he said placatingly, "you had better hurry up and tie him up. Otherwise darling," he laughed softly, "you might get eaten."
My hands trembled, my teeth grinding together in fury.
"You disgusting pig," I bit out, "I'll make you regret it. Just you wait."
His answering tone was infuriatingly smug. "I look forward to it Princess."
*