The Scourge of the Sea, along with the rest of his crew, returned to the ship and he took a moment to watch his new first mate, William Smee. The second he stepped on board he had started directing the crew towards specific tasks; ship prep, storage, but his top priority was the crew themselves, instructing anyone who was injured to see the ship's doctor immediately...including Simeon Black. This had admittedly surprised him given his first mate's friendship with his wench, but this was also a good trait to have for a second in command.
He informed Mister Smee that he was heading below deck and that he wasn't to be disturbed, leaving his first mate to handle getting them under way. Aye aye, Captain...that was his reply and it actually made him laugh because Silver did the same thing. Yep, her instincts were far better than his. He went to his quarters but paused at the sight of his wench sitting on the bed and clutching her godson tightly to her chest, her eyes being closed but it did not stop her tears.
'Its okay, Godmother. I knew he would stop you.'
'I didn't...for a brief moment...'
His jaw clenched, his stomach churning with regret. He never should have done it. He should not have gone that far and he had to inwardly admit to himself that he didn't hate her, that he genuinely cared for her, and he was a bloody bastard.
'You doubted me, wench? Shame on you and before we get any further into this discussion, I'm giving you a standing order, an order that cannot be overturned. Under no circumstances are you permitted to kill a child or to hold a child captive and force them to watch atrocities unfold before them. Is that clear, wench?'
'As my Captain commands so shall it be.'
'Its an unbreakable law of the Jolly Roger and Black went against that intentionally. He's been relieved of his duties as first mate and of his left hand.'
'You cut off his left hand? *he nods* Now that is just some serious irony. *opens his mouth to ask why* Tell me, Captain, which hand did Black use as his dominant hand? *the left which was why he had cut it off to start with* Its also the hand he uses...excuse me...used for self service.'
She had glanced down at his crotch a moment before smirking like the cat that ate the canary. He asked her if they should be discussing such things in front of her godson, to which she actually raised an eyebrow.
'Afraid to give him ideas, Captain?'
That took him off guard, especially when her godson snorted in amusement, and actually had to cover his mouth to stop himself from laughing. His godmother bonked him on the head and told him to mind his manners whilst in the presence of their Captain.
'You may follow his every order, Godmother, but I won't because I'm a child. Kind of in the job description to be rebellious.'
The Dark Captain started laughing and rather heartily at that, making the wench stare at him. When he got control of himself, he asked her what and she just sort of blushed and looked away, leaving her godson to answer for her.
'Considering her reaction, I would say you don't laugh much or at least any sort genuine laughter and she finds herself even more attracted to you. *earns a brief scolding from his godmother which he ignores* If there is something that you can be certain of, Captain, it's my godmother's desire for your happiness so laughing the way you did made her very happy just now.'
He glanced at the redhead that was currently blushing as bright as her hair and he knew the boy spoke the truth. It didn't make any bloody sense whatsoever, but didnt make it any less true either. He told Mordred, who promptly told him to call him Morrie, to find Mister Smee to help him get settled in while he spoke to his godmother.
'You know, Captain, all you had to say was Get out, Morrie. Why because it means that you are about to fuck my godmother into next week.'
He watched the child practically bounced out of his quarters with a smirk on his face. He heard his wench mumbling something about manners and tact and how she was going to beat Morrie's uncle into the next century. As amusing as her ramblings were, he really did have a deep desire to bed his wench and bed her he did...for almost two days straight. He thought he had been ferocious with her before but after what had occurred with her godson, it was like a massive tidal wave crashed upon him and drove him to go faster, harder, deeper, and in countless positions.
It was like he had been possessed or infected with this craving, a ravenous hunger that demanded appeasing. His wench didn't complain in the slightest. In fact, he recalled her screaming for more. Blimey, she had been insanely vocal and he was pretty certain the whole damn ship heard her. The reason they stopped was due to a different hunger...for actual food. He was never getting his evening wine back but it was alright because it always put on a smile on her face every time he reached or asked for it.
It was that day that he asked her what her name was and in turn she had said to give her a name and that is who she shall be. Seeing as how she had no intention of telling him her name without him making it an order, he decided not to press the issue but he did tell her that he didn't know if there was a single name or word that would do her justice at all. She giggled and told him to simply look at her and say the first thing that came to mind...Alice. Honestly he wasn't surprised that he had spoken that name for it was the name of his dead mother, a woman unlike any other. Yes, a fine name for his wench and he was certain that his mother would approve.
Time seemingly flew by aboard the Jolly Roger. Pranking had returned via a certain druid boy though it wasn't nearly as devastating to one's digestive track than their chef's antics. Then there was the fact their Captain had become quite the dancer. He knew how of course given his naval background but the red haired woman that was his wench just seemed to take it to a whole new level. Then there was the fact that he was constantly playing the flute for her, learning the songs from her land...he even started singing and somehow got them involved as well.
Life was good on board the Jolly Roger with a few exceptions. The animosity that Black and Alice had for one another was now considered full blown hatred for Black and a rather righteous fury for Alice. He was smart though and kept his mouth shut and steered clear of her and her godson. The same could not be said for Jefferson or Hawthorne. Jefferson glared at her all the time when she wasn't looking and always made certain to accidentally knock her off her feet at least once a day.
Then there was Mister Hawthorne and little Morrie. The way the Druid boy would stare at him with knowing eyes creeped the older man out and he actually had the nerve to barge into the Captain's quarters while he was bedding his wench to demand that the boy no longer be permitted in the galley or storage facilities.
'Afraid of what he might find, Mister Hawthorne? *goes to respond but she cuts him off* If my godson has become fixated on you then there is a reason and knowing him the way I do, it's not a good one. Now get out before my Captain finishes making up his mind about whether or not to fuck me or kill you then fuck me. Your choice.'
Things continued to deteriorate and that wasn't the only thing either. Many of the crew had begun to notice just how unsteady Alice had become. Her overall appearance also didn't help matters. Her skin was much paler than when she had first come on board despite the amount of time she had spent on deck working in the sun. Her crimson hair was once vibrant and shined with a golden light was now much darker, closer to a dark auburn, dull and brittle too. Her skin was like ice and she had lost a lot of weight. Her eyes still sparkled and shined yet they were always so tired like it was taking everything she had just to get out of bed...when her Captain let her that is.
Then there was Mordred's sudden silence and he ceased all of his pranking. He no longer laughed and carried on with Mister Smee as well. It was as if his entire being was focused upon but a single task of the utmost importance...and he was running out of time. It had something to do with his godmother because he was always seeking her out and they just stared at each other without saying a single word, but facial expressions made it appear as if an entire conversation was transpiring between them.
Their Captain seemed utterly oblivious to her declining condition like all he could see was the feisty maiden he had captured over five years ago and not the barely recognizable shell she was now. Many of the crew requested that she be given more time to rest and relax which his mind translated to taking her to his bed as consistently as possible and almost without pause. Smee finally told them to back off, that things like this always happened for a reason. The crew did as they were told and life on board the Jolly Roger continued on.
Hook had constantly been with his wench for years and her eyes still haven't changed. The radiant blue orbs that had always been filled with an emotion that he could never fully comprehend...until now. It took him over five years to realize why she never hated him because she loved him. Every time she called him Her Captain was her way of saying I love you. Upon reaching this conclusion, he had taken her to his bed and made love to her, rather passionately at that. His body trying so hard to show through actions how he truly felt for His Wench, but it wasn't enough. He had to say it at least once out loud whether she heard it or not.
'You've ruined me, wench. Stolen the black heart of the Scourge of the Sea, the heart I thought I no longer possessed. I am your Captain and you are my wench...*takes a breath to steady himself* I love you. I hope one day that you'll trust me with your true name and how you came to love me, but for today, I vow that no matter where you go, I will always follow. You may have my heart but for me, you are my soul.'
He wrapped his arms around her and held her close as he fell asleep, unaware of two very important things. The first was the appearance of a brand on his left hand, the silver hook within the prism, that faded away shortly after it had appeared and the second is what transpired less than ten minutes later, but he would not discover until the next morning.........and CUT!!!!
Hook: NO! No bloody way you are leaving it there, wench! That's too bloody cruel...even by your standards!
Artz: I wish I could say I was sorry but I'm not. I just love the suspense and I want to get the phrasing just right, so I'm posting this so they don't have to wait as long for an update.
Hook: *heartbroken* Oh just kill me now and be done with it already.
Poseidon: *pulls out his sword* If you insist...
Artz: Oi! That's enough, you two! *punts them out of the article*
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