Before Alexander had the chance to respond to her request, they were thrown off balance by the entire ship shaking around them, accompanied by a deafening sound. Natasha stumbled forward, already unsteady on her feet due to her injuries, and felt Alexander's hands fall on her shoulders to steady her.
"What was that?" Natasha asked, looking up at Alexander, eyes widened in surprise. He looked beyond her, his expression shifting as his eyebrows knitted together as a serious expression took over.
"Stay here," he said, without looking at her, and reached for the sword that was resting on a chest at the foot of his bed. Natasha watched him, confused, as well as angry that she was once again being pushed aside, locked in a room and left out of what was happening on board. So, when Alexander moved towards her, heading for the door, she backed up against it, blocking his way. A shadow crossed his face as a look of annoyance flashed behind his eyes, and Alexander sighed heavily.
"Natasha, move." His words were low and cold, and for a moment, Natasha couldn't help but think that he reminded her of John, cold and distant, and insistent on brushing her aside. The anger that Natasha had felt standing in John's room, demanding answers from him when he refused to even look at her, resurfaced, and Natasha crossed her arms over her chest.
"Tell me what's going on." She refused to look away from Alexander's eyes, waiting for his answer.
"Dammit, Natasha, this is not the time for games!" Alexander growled, his eyes flashing from her face to the door behind her as chaos seemed to erupt behind the closed door. Dozens of men shouted at one another, voices overlapping each other to the point where Natasha could barely understand what they were saying through the barricade behind her, but whatever was going on behind her, the ship had suddenly come alive. Another deafening blast erupted in her ears, and the entire ship trembled.
Alexander reached for her, his hand landing on her shoulder to try to move her out of the way, but Natasha fought back, using both of her hands to shove his arm away from her, despite how it made her shoulders scream in protest. "Tell me what's going on!" She yelled at him, taking the surprise in his voice as a sign that if she pressed hard enough, resisted enough, he would give her an answer.
Angrily, Alexander stepped towards her, closing the space between them so they were barely inches apart, but didn't touch her again. He leaned down, close enough that she could feel his breath against her cheek as he spoke, and she realized for the first time just how intimidating he could be.
"Those sounds you hear, that shaking you feel, those are cannons, Natasha, which means we are currently under attack. I advise you to step aside, and lock the door behind you." Natasha's entire body stiffened, and she felt as if she couldn't move but willed her feet to move over enough that Alexander could open the door beside her and brush past her. She watched him as she went, catching a glimpse of the chaos beyond her, the sight of John's men scrambling around the ship as a third blast reverberated in the air around her, although this time, the ship did not quake in the aftermath.
"Lock the door behind you," Alexander repeated. "Do not open it for anyone except for John or me, do you understand?" His voice had softened noticeably, and some of the anger had ebbed from his eyes, but as Natasha studied him in the moment before he closed the door, she could easily the fear that was forming in his blue eyes. Natasha nodded, watching as Alexander pulled the door shut behind him, feeling as if she wanted to say something to him but couldn't find the right words in the seconds she had before the door clicked shut and he was gone.
Natasha's hand lingered by the handle, her fingers shaking as they brushed across the rusted metal. A part of her desired to open the door, to see and to understand what was happening around her, but when something, or someone, slammed onto the wall just outside the door, her fingers quickly dropped the lock into it's place and she backed away from the door until her knees hit Alexander's bed. She half sat, half fell, back onto the bed and held her breath, not wanting anything to distract her from listening to the sounds outside the door. Two deafening crashes sounded almost simultaneously, shaking the ship as they did so, but it felt different this time, and Natasha knew it was John's men firing those cannons in defense of whoever was attacking them.
The noise on deck had not diminished at all, and as Natasha listened, she could hear the sounds of men struggling and metal against metal, telling her that whoever was attacking them had infiltrated the ship. Her heart nearly jumping out of her chest, Natasha looked around for anything that she might be able to use to defend herself. Her dagger and sword had both been left in John's room in the aftermath of the previous night's event, but a chest sat at the foot of Alexander's bed, and Natasha dropped onto her knees in front of it. She threw open the lid, rummaging through Alexander's clothing and other belongings desperately, exhaling a small sigh of relief when she felt her hand close around the hilt of what turned out to be a short sword. With still shaking fingers, she hooked the scabbard to the waist of her pants but kept the sword drawn in her hands as something slammed against the door again, causing her to jump. She froze, still kneeling in front of Alexander's open chest, as movement continued right outside of the door, the sound of at least two men struggling with each other until it stopped, and something hard fell to the ground, casting a shadow through the small crack underneath the door. Then, the handle started to move.
Closing the chest as quickly, and as quietly, as she could, Natasha threw herself to the ground and maneuvered herself underneath Alexander's bed. The space was barely big enough to conceal her, and her feet hit the back wall as she tried to push herself back as far as possible, holding the sword so it's tip was pointed out at the open space towards the door. Holding one hand over her mouth in an attempt to muffle her labored breathing, Natasha waited as whoever was outside of the door continued to struggle with the handle until the door was finally pushed in with a deafening crash that made Natasha jump again, her head smacking against the underside of Alexander's bed. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly as lights danced in the darkness she saw, the already existing pain she had from the previous night worsening now, and she prayed that any noise she had made was covered by the sound of the door crashing in.
Forcing herself to open her eyes, blinking away the reactionary tears that had pooled in them at the pain, Natasha looked out underneath the bed at the two pairs of boots that stood in the doorway. They were finer than anything she had seen John, Alexander, or any of the other men wear in her time aboard The Nightingale, and Natasha suspected that these men were not pirates. She feared they were worse.
"The girl is on board somewhere," one of the men started, and he spoke with no noticeable accent, which told Natasha he was from her land. "Find her." Natasha held her breath as she watched one pair of boots disappear from view, and then the other, but it was still a long moment before Natasha released the breath she was holding in. Taking her hand away from her mouth, she let it rest against the floor and dropped her forehead onto the back of her hand, trying to steady her breathing, resigning herself to wait until Alexander came looking for her again. Her entire body was shaking, her head was pounding, and her fingers ached as they gripped the sword so tightly she thought the hilt would meld to her hands. She tried to inhale slowly, trying to force her nerves to settle down, thinking that because the men had left her room without finding her, she was safe for the time being.
With her eyes closed and her heart pounding in her ears, Natasha didn't notice a pair of boots return to the room, masked by the noise of men screaming out on the main deck. It wasn't until the sword in her hand, which was still pointing out towards the edge of the bed, was ripping from her hand, burning her hand in the process, that she realized she wasn't as safe as she had thought.
Her reaction was costly, as her first instinct was the lunge for the hilt of the sword being ripped away from her. Her outstretched hand gave whoever was in the room with perfect opportunity to take hold of her and tear her out from underneath Alexander's bed. Her shoulder screamed in pain as it was yanked forcefully away from her body, and her side swung against one of the legs of Alexander's bed as she tried to wretch out of the man's grip. Her fighting was once again useless, as the man who pulled her out from underneath the bed had her on her feet in one fluid motion, her back against his chest, one hand coiled tightly in her hand to keep her from moving, the other holding Alexander's short sword across her neck.
"Natasha James," the man spoke, his lips moving against her ear in a manner that sent shivers down her spine. "We have been looking for you." She tried to move her head to put a face to the man holding her, but any movement put the blade in front of her flush across her neck, and she was forced to look only forward as the man, lowering his sword only slightly, pushed her forward by the grip in her hair and out towards the main deck. She stumbled in front of him, tripping over something in the doorway and wincing as her hair pulled painfully against her scalp, stopping only once the man pulled her back flush against his chest, raising the sword once again. Natasha would have stopped anyways, though, as the scene in front of her froze her.
Nearly half of John's men lay sprawled across the deck, unmoving as blood seeped through their clothing and the various wounds they had inflicted upon them. Included in the deceased were Anders, who had finally shown her the briefest moment of kindness when letting her keep the sewing kit, and Rover, whose head was turned to her, his dark eyes frozen wide, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. As she looked around, by her right side a pair of feet lay next to her, unmoving, and Natasha realized that what she had tripped over had been a body. Her stomach churned at the blood that was slowly pooling down the man's legs, and she felt the bile rise into her throat as she took in the dead, and then let her eyes travel to the remains of John's men.
Surrounded by a group of their attackers stood John, Alexander, Castille, Jack, and the remaining men left alive, including Maverick and Adan. Their various weapons lay at their feet, abandoned, and each one of them had a long sword pointed directly at their hearts, including Jack, who clung to Alexander's leg, his face wrenched with fear. Her heart clenched at the sight of the frightened boy, whose wide eyes were now on her face.
The men who held Natasha, who surrounded the men and scattered elsewhere across the deck, coming in and out of room and from the stairs that led below, were all dressed in identical uniforms. Black pants with a single stripe of cream down the left pant leg tucked into shining laced boots. They wore thick jackets the color of sand, with high collars the same black as their pants and dark buttons that shined like their shoes. If it wasn't for the occasional marking of blood that lined some of the jackets, these men would have looked as if they hadn't fought at all. The notion worried Natasha even more, as she had seen how brutal John and his men were when fighting, and she understood that these men had to have been even more skilled to take on his crew.
"Ms. James, I presume." The voice came from her right, and Natasha craned her neck, ignoring the blade, to find the source. Her eyes landed on a man descending the stairs by her side, dressed similarly to the men around her with the exception of his coat having long tails at the back and a handful of shining metals across his chest. He was clearly their captain, although he looked as if he hadn't engaged in the fight at all. Natasha watched him near her until he was standing just off of her right shoulder, and then she looked away, towards John, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression.
"My name is Captain Frederick Easton, of the Lords' Royal Navy." Natasha ignored him, forcing her eyes to stay forward, trained on John, hoping for any kind of sign that she should react, as Castille had shown her the night they were in the pub where they met Alexander. John was as motionless as stone, however, none of the men moving except for the subtle rise and fall of their chests. Her silence drew a sigh from Easton, and he stepped in front of her, obscuring her view of John.
"I apologize that we have to meet under such... distressing circumstances. But you, my dear," he said to her with a chuckle, "have been very difficult to track down these last two weeks."
"Is that so?" Natasha couldn't help but retort, looking over Easton's other shoulder now at Alexander, who was also staring at her, but his expression was vicious.
"Yes, quite," the Easton mused, taking a step closer to Natasha so he fully obscured her view of John and Alexander. looked at him finally, taking in his appearance. He was hardly an inch taller than her, with graying hair that was pulled neatly back at the nape of his neck and partially hidden underneath an odd looking hat that stuck out on both sides. His face was clean shaven, and not a single blemish appeared on his skin, which didn't even appear to be tanned from the sun now beating down on them after the last few days of storms.
"After your dear Captain here backed out of our agreement, finding you became quite an issue."
***
A/N: So this is not originally how I saw the scene after Natasha asked for help going, but when I started writing it out as Alexander helping her get off the ship it just didn't really feel right, so this is what I ended up with. What are you guys thinking? What about Easton's little revelation at the end? Thoughts? Let me know in the comments, and don't forget to vote! :)
Also, if pirates and fantasy aren't really you're scene, I do have another story in the works that's more realistic fiction (as realistic as a cheesy love story can be, of course) that you can check out, too! :)