New Fic!! Not all treasure is silver and gold
May 14th, 2007 (05:24 pm)
current mood: Vam!
current mood: Vam!
Title: Not all treasure is silver and gold
Author: ![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
karinvam
Pairing: Argg maties… This is Vam!
Rating: NC-17. Romance, humor, fluff and llittle angst
Disclaimer: This could have happened if Bam and Ville lived around 1700 and Ville had been a pirate and….*sigh* Alright, this never happened…I don’t own shit. *sobs*
Summary: (Not a Pirate of the
Warning: This story contains a sexual relationship between a 15 year old boy and a 27 year old man. Sex, bad language and violence….This story has it. You don’t like that stuff? Than please do not read.
A/N: This is my new fic!.! A pirate fic, that is right! Arggg Sweethearts! Thank you guys all for reading my last fic Ship Wrecked and I really hope you gusy like this one too. Of course it will be Vam and pretty soon too, don't worry. I have reputation for being slow with the Vamness, I know *wink* Please review and tell me what you think, and of course if I should continue! Dedicated to my Vam soulmate and dearest friend ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
villespunkchickShe owns the idea for this fic as much as I do! Check out her work!
Thanks you so much angel for giving me such an amazing time in England and for you amazing friendship!
Chapter 1 - Pirates!
"Aaah."
"Aaah."
Dark. So dark. Where was I? What was going on?
I knew I was in a bed, but it wasn’t my own. It wasn’t as soft. The smell of the room was different. The walls seemed made of wood. The floor seemed to rock back and forth, and the sound of water hitting the outside wall filled my ears.
I couldn’t see anything, and felt around next to me to find the oil lamp.
I hated the dark, it always made me panic. It made me feel so lost and out of control. I needed to see.
"Please work, please work, please." I begged the piece of metal weakly, trying to stop my hands from shaking.
Finally I managed to light the little and it shone a weak light over the room I was in, casting weird shadows on the walls and making them dance as the flame flickered. Still I sighed in relief.
I remembered now where I was. And that really was the only relief that the knowledge brought me. Whether it was about the ship that I was on, or where it was taking me.
As I tried to slip from underneath the blanket I'd been sleeping under, I noticed something that made my cheeks burn in embarrassment. Not again.
There was a rather wet spot on the sheets on my bed and on my bottoms around my groin area, and I felt my eyes starting to tear. Why was my body doing this to me? If the priest knew about this…..
I would have to go to church after we got on land again. If I did not confess this sin I would go straight to hell and burn forever, as father Patrick had told me many times.
I did not touch myself sexually, nor did I think about women, I didn't even feel the desire to be with one. Even though Father Patrick had told me I was too young to feel that way yet, and that those sinful temptations would come in time.
I prayed, I never cursed. I was helpful and polite. I honoured my father the governor and his wife, my mother, as I should. I studied hard. Hard enough for me to go to one of the best boarding schools in the world. The one even the son of the king enjoyed his education at. The one I was going to right now.
The one I feared going to because I hadn’t want to leave home.
Still, I did everything I was supposed to do. So why was the devil taunting me like this? And why did I have these sinful dreams about hands touching me all over my body, and a deep voice whispering in my ear?
However, I couldn’t help but feel relieved that at least the uncomfortable stiffness in my bottoms was gone, which made me feel even more guilty. This was happening more and more often to me nowadays, and also during the most uncomfortable moments. Like at the dinner table or in the carriage with father and mother. At least in bed, I was alone and no one would be able to see…..It was Satan trying to seduce me in committing a sin, I knew. But I had never given in.
I quickly wiped my tears away and changed into my beige breeches that reached down to my knees together with my stockings, hoping the wet stain on my bottoms would fade and disappear by itself. I already had trouble enough looking Maria, the maid, straight into the eyes. Knowing she was the one washing all the sheets.
I put on my white shirt, my midnight blue waistcoat and my white silk scarf to complete it, knowing that the sun would be coming up soon anyway. I was most proud of my black shoes with the big golden buckles, decorated by precious stones. It had been a gift from mother when I had turned fifteen three months ago.
Yes, I sure looked good like this.
The weather outside was horrid, I could tell. The ship was rocking back and forth with more power as the waves broke against the ship, and the wind howled outside my window. It frightened me, but I tried not to think about it as I sat down on the chair that stood in front of my wooden desk.
I didn’t want to return to my bed anymore; afraid of yet another accident. So I decided to stay in my cabin until the sun came up. Then, I had at least some control over my body.
On my desk was piece of paper with my name written upon in for about thirty times. I had been practising my handwriting before I had gone to bed, and I was content of the results. I really was getting so much better every time I did it. A lot of boys my age couldn’t even write at all while I could write entire sentences without any trouble.
Especially my name looked flawless, shining black on the yellow and thick paper.
Brandon Cole Margera.
That name filled me with pride. Brandon Cole Margera, son of the governor. One day the governor of Westchester . Yes, that was who I was, and I was proud of it.
Feeling restless, I got off my chair again, walking over to the box on the floor that contained my white, powered wig. One day, I would have a bigger wig with curls falling down my shoulders, like father’s wig did. Now, I just had a small one with a white ponytail on the back of my head, tied together by a black, silk ribbon.
My wig made me proud, since I was one of the few boys in Westchester that possessed one. The jealousy on the faces of my friends like Ryan Dunn and Christopher Raab thrilled me every time again. Knowing that I would have to confess their feelings to the priest. Since jealousy was just as much as a sin as the others. They wanted to be me, and that made me feel good.
If others wanted to be me then……I could praise myself lucky being me, right? Wasn’t that how it works?
There was a small mirror on the wall of my dark cabin, which I used to make myself looked presentable in the mornings. The light of the oil lamp on the floor, and the early morning sky now lightening the room trough the window enough for me to see myself clearly.
"Uh."
My hair looked a mess, I noticed as I made a face. If mother could see me now, she would certainly faint. The mop of brown curls on top of my head looked like it had been hit my a hurricane. The curls fell carelessly into my crystalline eyes and around my face as I tried to comb it back with my fingers.
I was a handsome boy, as mother always told me. I couldn’t see it. I'd rather have had dark and mysterious eyes, and cheekbones instead of my boyish plump cheeks. Maria had said the baby cheeks would disappear once I was man, but that was only one year from now. I feared they would never go away.
Yes, one year. Then I would be sixteen, and I would get married to the daughter of one of the governors from nearby Westchester . I hadn’t even bothered to ask from where that even was, I realized with a wince.
Melissa Rothstein I believed her name was. I had only seen her once and she had just giggled and blushed shyly like all girls always did, and had made me roll my eyes. Why were girls always giggling?
**
I had only just placed my wig on my head, adjusting it neatly and hiding any brown strands coming from underneath the white hair, when I heard voices coming from the deck above my cabin.
"Good, time to get up."
I was indeed getting quite hungry.
I was just about to get my coat when I heard a shout, making me look up and as I stopped moving my feet to the other side of the room. It did not sounded like a command. It had sounded….well, almost frightened.
Another shout, coming from the captain, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. What in the name of everything good was going on out there? What was this noise all about? It was still so early.
It was then I heard people running, screaming something as their feet stamped on the wood above my head. I wanted to get out of here, to see what was happening.
But even before I had reached my door, I was blown of my feet when a huge explosion made the entire ship tremble.
More screams and cries, as I fell hard on the wooden floor of the cabin. The wood cut open the skin of my cheek and ripped one of my stockings as I hit my head hard on the ground, making me feel dizzy.
Something had hit the ship. Something had exploded. There was something wrong but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I tried to stand up, my head spinning. I had to grab my desk with two hands to keep me from falling as I tried to keep my balance.
"Oh dear, oh dear." Was all I mumbled as I felt my body trembling. There were more footsteps. More screams and shouts. Luckily, no more explosions, but I did feel something bumping against the side of the ship, before different voices and more footsteps were heard.
Gunshots, cries and evil laughter.
"Oh dear god no."
And I was still here, standing with my hands on my desk, afraid to move. There were other people on this ship, and they could not find me. They were evil. They would kill me. And I hadn’t even gotten the time to confess.
The moment the thought crossed, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs that led to my cabin, and my body froze. They were coming for me. They were running towards my door.
I was going to die.
And all I could think was that I hoped the blood running down my cheek would not stain my silk scarf.
Before I could do anything else, my door swung open, it’s back banging against the wall as a bewildered looking man came running into my room, and shut it again. His eyes almost rolling out of their sockets as he tried to speak between pants.
It was Arend my dear old servant, I noticed while letting out a cry in relief.
‘Thank you dear god.’
"M-m-master Brandon , we need to get you out of here. Please come quick." He almost whimpered as he grabbed hold of my arm, guiding me to the door.
"Arend, What is going on?" I asked as I tried to resist his powerful grip on me. I didn’t want to go onto the deck. It did not sound safe out there.
But Arend did not answer me. He just dragged me to the door, mumbling this like; "It is not safe." and "We need to leave." And making me frown as he now started to hurt my arm with his strong grip.
"Arend, tell me what is happening." I commended, now pulling my arm away from him with a jerk, making the old man stumble back against the door, which opened and revealed two men standing behind him.
Then, Arend finally explained with one single word. But he did not need to anymore. It was now perfectly clear to me what was going on as I looked at the evil looking men holding a pistol and a sword in their hands, standing behind Arend with a evil grin.
One single word. I knew it would also be his last word.
"Pirates."
**
I screamed and fell back when Arend’s dead body almost fell on top of me, as one of the men shot him straight through his head. Tears were streaming down my face, mingling with the blood on my cheek and the salt stinging my wound as I whimpered helplessly.
I knew I would be next, so I hastily crawled back to the back of the cabin, knowing I could not escape as they were blocking the entrance.
Not to mention we were at sea.
"Arr Jyrki, that wasn’t very nice if you. Look, you scared the young lad."
The chubby looking brown-haired pirate said to his tall, black-haired and skinny friend with a toothy grin, poking the dead body of Arend with the point of his shoe while pointing at me.
"Aye Migé, and look at him. He is a beauty. The captain will love him."
The way they were looking at me sent chills down my shivering spine. What in the name of god were they going to do to me? All I could do was silently pray they would just let me live.
A howl came from the man called Jyrki as Migé slapped him flat handed on the back of his head, making me cringe as I tried to hide myself in the corner.
"Stop sucking up to ‘im, ya scurvy wench."
I heard him sneer, seeing the tall man growl at him as he touched his head.
"Arr I’m not sucking up you rat. You better watch it Migé, or I’ll keel haul meself when we get back."
I was hoping they would get so caught up in their argument they would forget about me. Unfortunately, I was not that lucky as Migé just growled and turned towards me again. His long and greasy hair hanging into his eyes as he grinned again, taking a step closer to here I was sitting.
"Aye Jyrki, it looks like we don’t have an ordinary lad here. Look at the swab on his head eey." He mocked me, and I tried but failed to duck as he suddenly stepped closer and snatched my powered wig of my head, making the messy curls fall over my face again and yanking out some of my real hair along with it. Migé cackled in delight as he put the wig backwards on his greasy head. The ponytails now touching his nose as Jyrki snickered at his action.
"Aye mate, and look at his clothes. We got ourselves a rich snob."
They were insulting me, and I felt my painful cheeks burn in shame as Jyrki pranced around the room as he stole Migé wig. Pretending to be a so called ‘snob’. There was nothing else I could do as I sat on the floor, crying silently with widened eyes as I rubbed my head, bleeding where the hairs had been ripped out, and hearing them laugh hysterically at my cost. .
"Ayee, right you are. We might not send him to Davey Jones locker just yet, eey. He can be usefull, ya know. Aye, tell me, what are ya boy?"
They were now both looking at me with evil grins on their faces, hovering over me as I sat on the floor. I had no idea what they wanted to hear, and I almost decided not to speak at all when the words were caught in my throat when I tried. But the click of Migé pistol, as he reloaded it, sobered me right up. I had no choice.
"My name is Brandon Margera."
I choked out, knowing that had been a mistake when a rough fist connected with my jaw, sending me flying backwards against the wall again. I heard Jyrki’s laughter vaguely in the background as I tried to stop the room from spinning. I looked up to see Migé grimacing and looking down at me as his hand kept balled into a dangerous fist.
"Arr, I did not ask what yer name is, did I? What are ya, ya little rat?"
He cursed, and I wished I could cover my ears. His stinging words were filthy and hurtful, and nothing like I had ever heard before. Maybe only from tales about pirates I had never really wanted to hear.
"The son of the governor of Westechester."
I finally answered with a quivering voice and a trembling bottom lip. I knew now that was wanted to hear, and I also knew it would get me in trouble.
"Ayyee, ya hear that Migé?"
Jyrky grinned like Christmas had come early this year, as he placed a rough hand with dirty fingernails on Migé’s broad shoulder.
Migé simply nodded, and looked at Jyrky with a meaningful look as they both nodded and making me feel slightly sick.
"Aye ya little worm, yer comin’ with us. We’re takin ya to the ship so ya can meet the Captain. He’ll decide what to do with ya."
Migé spoke, as one if his strong hands grabbed my arm and pulled me up, off the floor and onto my wobbling feet. Jyrky just smirked as he clapped his hands in excitement.
"That is big honour ya know. Not every man can just meet out Captain of the one and only Black Heart."
That was when my heart skipped a beat.
If I hadn’t been scared before, I sure was now.
I knew the tales about the Black Heart. I knew the tales of the Captain.
I knew I was in a whole lot of trouble.
*Ok lovelies! First Chapter! *bites nails* What do you think? Shall I continue? Good? Horrible? Had a funny dream last night you want to share? Anything!
*Ok lovelies! First Chapter! *bites nails* What do you think? Shall I continue? Good? Horrible? Had a funny dream last night you want to share? Anything!
Not bad. Off to a good start.