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chaotic-orphan · 2 months

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Febuwhump: Day Seventeen

Prompt - hostage situation (#febuwhump)

TW: tied up, ropes, helpless, pirates, intimate Whumper, explosion, fighting, violence, mass killing implied

*~*~*~*~*

The sea was calm. The weather fair, the morning was yawning awake, blue skies rising with the sun, the dark blues disappearing beyond the horizon. It was a cycle of change that lay before his eyes, the fresh dew cast a mist on the water… and yet something, on the wind perhaps, was unsettling Locke as he maintained his chartered course. Something unexpected was turning with the tide, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

His first mate approached him, eyes on the horizon as they sailed at half-speed. “Admiral,” first mate said in greeting, the lilt of a question hanging off the last syllable.

“Do you feel the shift in the dew, first mate?”

First mate followed Locke’s line of sight to the lazily rising sun. “No, Admiral. However, that is not my station.”

“What is your station, mate?”

“To ensure you’re ship shape, Admiral,” said First Mate with a cheeky grin. “I trust your instincts; I would sail into hell if you ordered me too and recruit the best dead sailors of the underworld to navigate us to the living one again.”

Admiral laughed, a smile appearing on his face at Mate’s words.

“And what do your instincts say today, Admiral?” Mate asked.

“That we need to fly at full speed and reach the next port before this ill-begotten wind is at our backs.”

“Sir,” said first mate with a nod. First mate walked promptly down the steps of the ship onto the poop deck and let out an unmerciful commanding shout that could wake the dead. “Make-Ready Men!”

There was a ruckus below deck, a few curses and sudden thumps from the crew waking to the sound of First mate’s bellows.

“Heave the sails to full speed!”

Admiral laughed again when First mate turned to look at him over their shoulder, dark eyes bright with mischief. Then First mate’s eyes widened as they stared passed Locke to something behind him. Locke turned too.

A black ship twice the size of Admiral’s was on them, which had not been there a mere moment before. “Admiral!”

First mate yelled and Admiral heard sudden panicked footsteps run towards him as a chord of rope enveloped him, binding his arms to his sides with one unmerciful pull and lifting him from his own ship. Admiral gasped as the rope closed tighter and tighter around him the more he struggled. His feet left the deck of his ship, his eyes on First Mate who was standing where Locke was not a moment ago, reaching up desperately trying to catch Locke before he was completely out of reach.

First mate’s fingers brushed Locke’s ankle devastatingly close before Locke was hoisted up like one of his sails away from his ship and impossibly high above it like God himself was pulling Locke to the heavens.

Were it not for the chants of “heave! Heave! Heave!” Locke would have thought he was dead. If not for the riotous laughter as Locke was hoisted higher only tightened a knot of anxiety in his gut until he was above the other vessel, black planks below him and a man in a white shirt with red hair grinning up at him deviously.

Locke swallowed as he gazed down at the ship. No uniforms, no colours of their allegiance and the black finish of the deck… Locke had only heard rumours of this monster that haunted the seven seas.

Locke was lowered precariously to the deck of the ship, his legs like jelly under him when they hit the ground. The red-haired man laughed when Locke’s knees buckled and he fell to the deck, unable to catch himself.

“We went fishing lads, yet it seems we caught ourselves a landlubber,” the red-haired man proclaimed. More jeering laughter followed as the red-haired man spread his arms to his adoring crowd, turning his back slightly to Admiral. Admiral grit his teeth as he got a leg under him and pushed himself up.

He didn’t make it to one knee with a sword at his throat. His eyes widened at the glinting metal, the same black as the ship – a metal Locke had never set his eyes on before. The red-haired man’s eyes narrowed into a sharper point than the blade.

“I wouldn’t get brave now, fishbait.”

“Let go of me!” Locke demanded hotly. “Perhaps we can write this off as a misunderstanding.”

“Oh,” the red-haired man hummed, turning his body back to Admiral. “I don’t like threats, especially not ones made aboard my own ship, fishbait.”

“What a coincidence,” said Admiral tightly. “I don’t like being hoisted from my own. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement.”

The ropes tightened harshly around Admiral, stealing the breath from his lungs as the red-haired man stepped in, the captain of this ship no doubt… why was his name eluding Locke right now? He should know the name!

His smile was wicked and reckless. “Aye. Mayhaps we can.”

“Captain!” One of the pirate’s crew called. Captain, so Admiral was right. The red-haired man lifted his head and the pirate continued. “They’re preparing for a fight.”

Captain smiled down at Admiral. “Your men are loyal, Admiral,” Captain said, slightly impressed. Admiral frowned at him as someone grabbed Admiral’s arms and wrestled them behind him, before tying them off behind his back. Admiral pulled at the ropes, but they were so tight he could feel his pulse beating below the ropes.

“We can part peacefully, Captain,” said Admiral diplomatically. “Release me and let me return to my ship and my crew. We have no quarrel with you.”

The red-haired man grinned. Someone handed him the loose rope that was attached to Locke which Captain wrapped tightly around his hand and used it to pull Locke to his feet. Locke’s eyes widened as the Captain gave another harsh tug and yanked Locke closer, stumbling into Captain’s chest.

“Who said there must be a quarrel?” Captain said with a smile as he watched the realisation flood Locke’s face. Then Captain gave his order: “strike their colours, lads!”

Admiral lurched forward, panic seizing his limbs as he let out a sharp: “no!”

“Hush, now, Admiral, and be a good little hostage. I’ll get you accustomed to the mast, shall I?” Admiral fought him the entire way, but the Captain pulled him along anyway, looking over his shoulder to chat idly with him. "I must say, Admiral, it is a good day to see Kings men fight with loyalty for their captain. You'd be surprised how often men readily give up their captain for their lives."

"We can trade, Captain, please, there need not be blood!"

The red-haired man laughed, throwing his head back and mouth open wide staring at the sky with a hearty chuckle.

"Perhaps we are alike, Captain, you and I. We are sharks," said the pirate, yanking Admiral forward with a hand in his shirt and with a twist of his hips he slammed Admiral back against the central mast, knocking the breath from his lungs. "We both smell the blood in the water."

Captain smiled as he handed the rope to someone behind Admiral. Admiral felt the ropes tighten around him, locking his arms even tighter to his sides until there was no leverage at all for him to move. He felt the wood against his hands that were trapped uselessly behind him, and he wanted to curse and scream at the grinning pirate.

Locke froze as the captain placed a hand on the mast and leaned in, smiling at the Admiral, barely an inch between their noses. The pirate didn't smell bad, he smelled like sweet rum and salt water, but Locke scrunched his nose up all the same.

"What is your name, Admiral?” Captain asked with a dashing smile. “Just so I can properly threaten your life to your men."

"I'll tell you once you walk the plank, Captain," Locke snarled, baring his teeth at the pirate. Captain smiled and shrugged.

"Fine,” Captain said as he leaned away from Locke, the glimmer of something mischievous in his eyes. “I guess I’ll just have to wrangle it out of that spiffing first mate of yours instead.”

Admiral jerked forward, but he didn’t get very far, the ropes holding him back to the mast. “Don’t touch them!” Admiral barked.

“Sorry, Admiral,” said Captain with a forced sigh, pulling his revolver from his belt and checking to see if the gunpowder was loaded before drawing the hammer back to the full cocked position. “Loot to plunder, sailors to threaten, I have a busy schedule. Sit tight gorgeous, I’ll be back.”

Captain snapped the into place and offered Admiral a wide smile and a wink before he disappeared. “Captain! Captain wait!”

Admiral screamed after him, but over the sounds of swords clashing and gunpowder his screams just joined the sea of noise. Captain struggled in the ropes, trying to find any leverage to squeeze under or shrug over but it was no use. The rope dug so tight into Locke’s diaphragm that he could barely breathe. He knew there was going to be a ring of bruises there after he got free.

These men… Captain’s men weren’t ordinary pirates, they had an easiness to them, a regiment that reminded Admiral of his own ship’s crews and ranks. Ordinary pirates are usually not worth their salt, and yet… something in the back to Admiral’s mind told him that he knew — or should know — the Captain that currently kept him captive.

The fighting lasted until the sun was above the horizon, shimmering on the waters as the smoke cleared from between the two ships.

Another pirate came to Admiral and cut the ropes tying him to the mast. Before Admiral could ask what they were doing, the pirate yanked him forward, grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and pushed him towards the gangplank between both ships.

“Now then!” Captain said, his mirthful voice carrying over the ships with relaxed ease. “We have your captain, sailors. Your beloved Admiral Locke,” said Captain, sending a flash of his teeth to Locke. Admiral searched the poop deck for his first mate and found them in the arms of two of Captain’s men, blood streaming down their face from their forehead and nose. A bruise crowning on his cheek, his officer jacket tore.

Captain turned to Locke then, still aboard Captain’s ship. Admiral glared down at him. “The choice is yours, Admiral. Your men fought for you, will you fight for your men?”

Admiral frowned. “What?”

“I offer you the choice— would you fight—”

“Yes!” Admiral yelled, taking a step forward but he was yanked back. His heart pounding in his ears.

“Two streams of loyalty,” Captain mused. His boots hitting Locke’s deck towards first mate. Every step resounded in Admiral’s heart thudding in his chest.

“Hey! Get away from them!” Locke growled, struggles renewed as he tried his damned hardest to get to Captain and shove him away from First mate. “Captain! Captain please!”

Captain ran a hand through First Mate’s hair and yanked their head up to face Locke aboard Captain’s ship. Captain smiled, his eyes sharp.

“I offer you the choice, Admiral,” said Captain again. “Your ship and your crew, or First mate.”

Admiral blinked, something horrid settling into his gut as First Mate struggled in the pirates’ hold. The pirates wrestled First mate back into submission, Captain never taking his eyes from Locke.

“What?” Admiral breathed, too quiet for Captain to hear, but it was as if Captain heard, because he continued his torturous ultimatum with a grin.

“Your ship. Your men, your crew, your rank as Admiral, your flag, your country, your uniform,” said Captain, turning to face First mate and grabbing First mate’s chin between his fingers. “Or your first mate.”

“Admiral!” One of the sailors cried. Admiral’s dragged his eyes away from Captain to his navigator, struggling against a pirate. “That would be treason! You can’t!”

“That is my offer,” said Captain nonchalantly, capturing Locke’s attention again. “Treason and love? Or service and duty.”

“Go to hell,” First mate rasped. Captain shook his head and clicked his fingers. One the pirates holding First mate brought a cloth forward and wrestled it between their teeth. Captain waved his finger in front of First mate’s face and booped their nose. “Good little hostages don’t speak, First mate.”

First mate glared at Captain as the gag cut into their cheeks, mumbling incoherent curses at Captain behind it.

Meanwhile Locke was rooted to the spot, stunned at the awful choice that stood in front of them. It wasn’t the choice was difficult, Locke had already decided, the decision was made long ago, but… the ramifications of voicing it seemed too horrible to think.

First mate caught his conflicted eyes and shook their head softly. Admiral’s heart lurched in his chest because they knew, the pair of them knew what way the situation was going to unfold. The guilt before the decision was threatening to overwhelm them both and Locke hadn’t even said a word yet!

Captain noticed too, looking up at Locke. “Will you leave us in suspense, Admiral? Are we but fishes on your hook? Or are you waiting for the next bell to sound, hmm? Tick tock goes the tide, and with it comes the weather.”

Admiral felt all eyes turn on him, the weight of them threatening to drown him out of water.

“Admiral,” Captain hummed and yanked First Mate’s head up by the hair. First mate let out a muffled protest, fighting against him. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”

“First mate,” Admiral whispered.

Captain paused. Then he turned, eyes bright like a cats. “What was that, Admiral?”

Locke cleared his throat and avoided the eyes of his crew. “I choose treason. I choose my first mate.”

“For shame!” His crew cried but Locke didn’t care. His gaze was fixed on First Mate who was shaking like a leaf. Captain released First mate’s hair and clapped his hands together.

“Wonderful!” Captain said. “Please, bring First Mate aboard the Fallen Marauder, lads.”

Admiral stilled.

The Fallen Marauder, there’s no way that Locke was standing on the Fallen Marauder. Aside from the fact that it was a fiction, a fairytale, Admiral should be on his ship with his crew.

“Wait, what? I thought you would let us go.”

Captain grinned, “oh Admiral… how naïve.”

First mate was struggling against the pirates as they dragged them across the gangplank to the Captain’s ship. Admiral turned to First mate, but he was turned again, forced to face forward.

“Wait, Captain! What are you doing?” Admiral demanded as he saw a barrel of gunpowder being scattered over the deck.

“You chose, Admiral,” said Captain, walking across the gangplank after his men and came to stand beside Admiral. “You chose first mate, didn’t you?”

Admiral’s eyes were wide with fear. “Don’t. Don’t do this there are good men on that ship!”

“Good men you abandoned,” said Captain softly. “A ship without a captain is doomed.”

“They can make another captain!” Admiral cried as the Captain’s men pulled the gangplank away from the ship. “Please!”

“What do you care for a King’s ship? You have no country now, no loyalties to this endeavour. Now you are one of us, Admiral…” said Captain, then his head dipped, a conspiratorial smile gracing his face. “Or should I say, more accurately, Locke?”

Locke’s eyes went wide. That… Captain wasn’t wrong but Locke, he didn’t… he— his eyes searched the waters as his ship slipped further and further away from him, his men and crew wailing and crying and screaming.

Captain raised an arm. “Captain please,” Locke begged.

Captain dropped his arm. A cannonball fired and Locke stood frozen as he watched his ship go up in smoke. He sucked in a gasp as the air was ripped from his chest in shock. The planks bent and snapped and flew over the sea in a two metre radius of the ship.

“Welcome aboard the Fallen Marauder,” said Captain with a deep bow, dipping low. He tilted his head up as he introduced himself to the shaking Adm – former admiral. “My name is Captain Marlowe.”

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