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the new world || bear & dragonfly

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HeyThereLittleBear

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They spoke of the New World in a reverance that she thought at times they surely must be speaking of Heaven. When Charlotte thought of the New World, she didn't imagine a land of opportunity and riches but instead another slab of land in which she would be prisoner of circumstance until her father found use of her. It was a shame, her mother told her, that her father hadn't been capable of siring a son.

A true shame.

Instead of dreaming of the New World, Charlotte dreamed of the Sea. Though rough at times and difficult to love, there was an openness here that she enjoyed more than she could express. The Sea was where she felt she truly learned about herself, watching the sun rising from seemingly nothing and watching the stars still in the sky as they transversed endless miles upon miles to a new home.

There was a still in the silence that couldn't be matched and at night she lay on the deck and watched the moon in its humble home in the sky, her lips curving into a soft smile as she mused over what life must be like to live beneath this all year round. Her life, in comparison, was nowhere near as lovely as all the stars in the sky. Quite contrary to that, she lived a life that was mundane and scheeduled. Hair neat, dresses pressed, and cheeks rosy at all times. Even at sea it must be perfect.

She liked much like every other woman that existd, though perhaps that was what saved her when true tragedy struck. In the dead of the night, she'd heard the call cried out from the bird's nest above, terror in the sailor's voice as he'd screamed the one word no one wanted to hear -- "Pirates!"

Time passed, slowly as if it they had suddenly been dropped into molasses instead of air and she watched in quiet mixed horror and amusement as the crew and passengers alike tried to find safe places. There was, honestly, no battle. There was nothing much as the much better-armed and out-numbered the skilled fighters. In the thrill of chaos, they didn't notice someone as small as Charlotte slipping way, nearly hugging the planks that had been tossed from ship to ship to allow the pirates to board.

Their ship wasn't kept in neraly the same shape as the one she'd been on, and it quite obviously had been well-loved and often sailed.But it was quiet. She found a spot between supply barrels that was small enough for her and her dresses to fit, and this was where she hid herself, among the sound of distant waves and in the shadow of the moon.

This, too, was where she sat audience to the sudden sounds of gunshots and screams. They echoed over the water and brought horror into her chest as laughter roared across the deck, her blood cold as the sound of nearing and passin footsteps came. She sat crouched as she covered her ears to mask the sounds of further screams, the empty splash of bodies a cold noise that made her stomach sink down into her hips.

There was something final in the wood-on-wood sound of the planks being pulled back, her muscles screaming in her cramped space as time passed as endless as the sea. Morning would come eventually... But now, at this moment, her legs screamed for release.

She was hesitant, but she crawled from her hiding spot and let her legs stretch, her body arching as she worked the kinks from her thin frame. There was nothing out here anymore, no neighboring ship and hardly any moonlight... But there was a man. Danger, perhaps, was closer than she realized...
 
Ever since the time he could waddle Nico Lettiere had tried running away to sea, but it wasn't until his fifteenth birthday that he had finally succeeded. The man that they called Captain, an old greying seadog by the name of Keneil, had taken a shine to the keen-eyed son of a whore and allowed him to stay rather than chuck him overboard or sell him as a slave. Nico had never known his father as he was almost certain that his mother had no proper recollection of the man at all. With his mother constantly working and his sisters following her footsteps, the young lad practically raised himself and hadn't been home much at all past the age of eight. He was a forgotten middle child and a brigand of the back streets in his home town. His inability to escape the island had nothing to do with a watchful parent keeping him from the docks. Most of his gainings at that age had been earned with the gang that he ran with, but when he did busy work he always worked at the docks. No, what had kept him from the sea was the boot of deck hands who kicked his arse if he came too close during their last checks.

Over the years he had worked his way up for Keneil's favorite pup, as the others had cheekily called him, to first mate. It But now...he was Captain of the ship Brigitte's Pearl, named after Captain Keneil's late wife. In the wake of Keneil's death, Nico had made the decision to keep the name. He shared no similar love for a woman nor his mother, and Keneil had been the closest thing to a father to him.

In the dead of night they drew closer to the civilian vessel and the dark haired, bright eyed Nico grinned as the shout of realization reached his ears. They had kept their ship dark to minimize suspicion until it was too late to put distance between them. "Get ready t' board!" The first mate Nigel called out. The entire crew jeered as they swung their grappling hooks to gain momentum before letting them fly. The clawed prongs dug into the ship and its rail long enough for planks to be laid across and the initial boarding team to hop over. Nico wasn't far behind. His heavy boots sounded across the deck of the assaulted ship even as his crew flooded around him like a tide of wanton destruction. The men who were supposed to stay behind on his ship to watch it had been too eager to join them and that was what had given Charlotte her chance to board their ship behind them.

"We found their captain, Captain!" A few of the pirates jeered as they dragged the bloody nosed man before the smirking pirate Captain.

"Is that so?" Nico's smirk persisted as he cocked his readied pistol and shot the man right in the chest. One of the passengers screamed as the captain of the ship was released to fall to the deck clutching his chest. The dark-haired pirate shoved the gun back into his belt before taking his sword in hand. "Get to work, lads."

That started the cacophony of shots, screams, splashing, and laughter that reached the sole survivor in her hiding spot. Had there been any other females, they would have been taken along for fun but there had been only Charlotte as her parents had sent for her after they their roots had dug in deep in the new world. The looting of the ship took quite some time and the First Mate had men disable the ship so it would sink to the bottom of the ocean floor slowly and get rid of any evidence before the sun broke over the horizon.

***

It was over halfway to morning by the time Nico heard the scratching of shoes against the docks. He wasn't necessarily on watch as he had a man in the nest doing that at that very moment, but he certainly was watching the moon as clouds danced in front of it. He turned his head towards the sound and his proud chin rose in challenge. His blue eyes narrowed the figure that rose. A stowaway? As his eyes made out exactly what he was looking at he couldn't help but grin. He stood there on the desk before her with his hand on the grip of his sword. "Well, well. What do we have here? A pretty little mouse scurrying about my ship."

He was tall and lean with olive toned skin darkened from the years at sea. The silken shirt and pants he wore was considerably cleaner than the boots that he wore. If Charlotte thought back to the guests she might have recognized the clothes from a young noble lad who had been sailing along with her. His free hand extended to her and he beckoned her forward with a quick curl of his hand. "Come now. Why don't you let me get a good look at you?"
 
When Charlotte thought of pirates, she had always imagined rugged and dirty men in roughspun tunics that were stained from hard hours at the sea. She hadn't pictured a man half so clean or (dare she say?) handsome, her brows furrowing. He almost looked as if he'd stepped off her ship as a passenger or even a deck worker. But no, she spied the blood on his cuffs and with horror she came to realize that there was a reason his clothing looked to match hers - it was stolen from a presumed dead man.

The color that was in her face washed out and her eyes locked onto him as she fought the evolutionary urge of fight or flight. Her legs were locked into place and there really was no use in throwing a punch at him with his hand on a sword. It was one against who knows how many and she was horribly unprepared.

Her hand shook as she offered it out to him, trembling like a leaf in the wind as she stepped out of the shadows that had hidden her. Charlotte looked every bit the way a proper woman should, with her high rosy cheek bones and her full lips. Her eyes were a striking spring green in contrast with her dark and wavy black hair. She was lovely, even frightened, though the set in her shoulders told the story of someone that still had fight left in her.

"I-I'm not a mouse." She said, regretting the words almost instantly as they left her mouth. There were far more worries for her than being called something small and adorable, but this was certainly no way to start off with him assuming she was weak.
 
Nico's eyes wandered shamelessly over her as she stepped forward and his hand clasped hers tightly. "Watch your step," He warned as the ship dipped slightly, his own body used to the motion of the ocean as it were. The waves were not unlike the ones that she had encountered throughout her entire trip, but his other hand had moved out to guide her closer to him. "If you aren't a mouse, then what are you? A barracuda?" He laughed at his own joke and a few of his teeth glinted metal in the low light.

His hand was certainly off his weapon for the moment, but nonetheless he proved to be cautious with the way his body turned so the sword was away from her. "You wouldn't happen to be from that ship we just plundered and sank, would you?" His face drew closer to hers and he inhaled her scent. She certainly smelled of perfumes and privilege like the other women. "I didn't happen to kill your father on that ship, did I?" There was only a slight pause before he answered as his eyes dipped lower to examine her again. "No...I don't believe that any of them have the sack to have birthed such a beautiful woman."

A thought drew his eyes back up to her face suddenly and he wrinkled his nose. "Don't tell me you're the wife of that fat fuck that John skewered like a pig!" Even as he asked the question the amusement in his blue eyes shone, even if he had killed someone from her family he likely wouldn't have shown any remorse for it all.

"Who's your father then, Mouse?" The smile faded slowly from his lips with the question. He had every intention of ransoming her if her father proved to be anyone of wealth.
 
The waves seemed to obey his command, tipping her quite literally against him as her sea legs were not strong enough to keep her balance. She flinched as he looked her over, his eyes hungry in a way that she used to see the stray dogs at home in the streets watch as she carried groceries. His eyes also reminded her of the sea, with their color so blue that she would have wished to see them on another man... One not currently sniffing her as if she were a carafe of wine that he wished to sip from

But even still goosebumps rose on her flesh and she couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine swiftly, her cheeks pink as he talked her to her as she had always imagined a pirate would. He wanted to know her worth, to make sure that she was worth keeping and ransoming off for a pretty penny. If she said too low a status, he would surely throw her to the crew and let them each have a go before tossing her to the swells. Too high and... He'd be sorely disappointed and likely kill her for lying.

"I... I am Charlotte Peters. My father... My father is a lawyer. He is soon to be a magistrate. He is in the New World with my mother. I was left behind with the maids to tend to our property until our home was finished in the Colonies..." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth. Her father was a disgraced lawyer that had been running from those he'd stolen from, and he was running to a new land to have a new life and lie his way into the coin purses of new men.

She pushed her way away from him, her eyes harsh at him as she attempted to tug her wrist free from his grip. "And I told you. I'm not a mouse."
 
Nico seemed pleased by the heritage that she spoke of and he hummed as he allowed her to briefly escape him. They were, after all, on a boat and she hardly had far to go except for overboard or into the arms of another pirate. "Soon to be magistrate?" He smiled wide enough that she could see some of his teeth glint metallically. "How wonderful of him to send his daughter along unattended." His mind was already wondering how much he could ransom her for, it certainly couldn't be a paltry sum or else the others would seek to take it from her hide.

Around the ship pirates began to stir, a sound that drew his attention even if his eyes never left her. "I suggest spending your time in good company such as myself and not the common pirate." Unbeknownst to him, she had chosen the right status level. High enough to be worth ransom, but low enough that it was unlikely to get them targeted by military ships. The sun hadn't yet risen, but the faint scrape of boot leather against wood could be heard. "Unless, of course," He began with a psuedo helpful tone, "You would rather say hello to my crew."

Rightfully presumptuous, he motioned towards the large double doors near the stern of the ship. "I would be more than happy to introduce you to them if you'd like." It was a real sour choice and he knew it. He started towards his cabin as if he expected her to follow. Once he reached the door and opened it he glanced back towards her.

Inside the room was lavishly decorated, undoubtedly with all pilfered goods. Each piece of decorum was swanky by design, though they had seen some wear from salt water and time. The couch that had once been plump was now a bit flatter than it had once been and the bed sheets were a little threadbear, but it was hardly a messy room.
 
The man accepted her half-truths well enough and she could tell from the wolfish grin that took over his face that he was more than happy with what she had given him to work with. It bothered her down to her core to know that she had chosen so poorly as to board the ship... But what would have been worse? To be discovered by one or discovered by all? She had heard the screams as clear as day and knew that if she had been caught with the other passengers she would have been raped or killed on sight. Now, she was still likely to be raped but she couldn't imagine this man sharing her so readily when he could easily take her as a personal treat.

She would be a more useful bargaining tool alive now than she would be as dead weight. He could likely already hear the jingle of gold in his pocket and the thoughts of riches making his head spin. Unluckily for them both, her father wouldn't pay any price the man put on her head. But it would buy her time.

Just as now she had a new choice to make - the distant scraping of boots made her heart sink as she thought of what the rest of the crew may do to her. She was a lovely young woman by their standards and would certainly be seen as a welcome distraction from the endless nothing that was the sea. Sailors were just men, and she'd been told of their lusty natures when set ashore.

Like before, she chose the lesser of the two evils and followed Nico into his chambers. The room wasn't the best she had seen but as far as a sailor's quarters went, they were far more homey than she expected. His bed looked worn and well-slept and she shied away from it, knowing that any kind of kindness shown now would be seen as her taking interest in him.

Charlotte didn't let her fear take hold of her, though she knew she was in far over her head and playing a very dangerous game. She feared to know the answer to the question biting at her, but it wouldn't do to keep silent. "What happens now?" She asked, eyes pointedly staring at his bed. "You've made a point to bring me here and shown me your... Hospitalities. I don't suppose you want me in here for tea."
 
Nico sauntered over towards the couch in a way that only a pirate could, taking the small dips of the ship among the waves in stride. "If you are so eager to get friendly..." The hungry smile persisted as he turned and sat finally, his booted feet rising to rest upon the table in front of him. There was blood caked upon his heels. He let his words fall away before he shook his head. "We don't drink tea, Mouse."

Again his gaze rose, fell, and lingered on her. They were on the last leg of their own journey before they headed towards the nearest port and it had been quite a while since they had been at a whoring port. "Where is home for your family?" He pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and unscrewed the cap before he raised it to his lips to sip at it. His free hand waved towards the other side of the couch and when the flask lowered he spoke. "Sit. Drink." He offered the flask up to her. "You chose a fine time to join our ship. We're having salmagundi for sup. My men found an agreeable stash of farm animals on the merchant vessel."

While the merchant ship had been adequately equipped to keep the animals fed, the pirate ship was currently not. They had killed their own stash of goats and chickens for food the week prior and he had eaten the last of the left over jerky two nights ago. Since then he, like the rest of his crew, had been surviving off hardtack and rum.

He was an easily distracted man when it came to the female anatomy, his eyes dipping lower once more. "It's a pity...if I had known you were joining us I wouldn't have had the men throw all those pretty dresses we found overboard. They wouldn't have happened to have been yours, would they?" If she paid attention the pinky finger on his outstretched hand she might see a familiar looking ring glint upon it. He had raided the jewelry in her room as well.
 
Watching Nico move was like watching any other creature in their natural habitat. His feet knew just where to fall and his legs knew the way the water moved through an instinct that she lacked. He was more in tune with the swells than any typical man could ever be. She would have marveled at the way he seamlessly worked his way through the swells, but this was not a time or place to give compliments. Though she had made a wise and life-saving decision to board his ship to escape her ill fate, she had also entered into a dangerous game full of trap doors and etiquette she had never experienced before.

And so, when it came to be her turn to make a move, she moved cautiously. He motioned for her to join him and instead her arms crossed over her chest, impeding his view of the swell of her breasts. She did sit, but when she did it was as a proper lady should, with her legs crossed primly and her body language speaking volumes that her mouth could not adequatly portray. Her shoulders were stiff and her back straight, letting the rocking of the ship move her only slightly as she tried her best to seem as proper as possible.

The contrast between the two was almost laughable, with her pale and clean skin sitting next to his bloodied and ragged boots. The only thing on him that seemed to match her was... The ring! Her eyes fell upon it as he extended the flask to her and she grabbed it - not the flask but his hand. She turned his wrist so the ring was in his full view.

"This is not your property." It was a statement, said with a tone that was hard and nearing on harsh, but her eyes were aflame with anger. The ring had been a gift from her mother's mother, a woman that had been good in heart and deed. It was one of Charlotte's most valued treasures, made of silver and opals that looked like rainbows set in dew drops.

Her hand let go of his, taking the flask from his grip slowly, though she didn't tilt it to her lips. "I'll drink with you... If you return me my ring." She stated, opting to ignore all of his other questions. He didn't need to know anything about her and she didn't want to bait him into thinking she trusted him. This would be how she would try and gain the upperhand.
 
The flask remained extended as she sat with her body rigid and her body language entirely closed off to the prospect of discussion. He had known a few women like her back home, daughters of merchants and Governors. They always believe themselves to be better than those in situations like his, but being the street rat that he was had its advantages. He had learned to read people from an early age. It was more difficult with women born and bred to believe that hiding their feelings was the most proper way to do things, but right now she made no such effort to conceal her feelings.

A swell of his own rose in his chest, though his was of annoyance and far less visible to the naked eye than her bosom. He was a great deal darker than her, his olive skin had seen more sun in a week than she likely had seen in her entire life. He could see the way she eyed his boots and attire, the noble he had stolen the clothes from had boots that were far too small for him or else he likely would have stolen those too. A different pirate had taken them instead.

When she reached out to his hand he was surprised, until she turned his wrist in a way that spilled some of the liquor out. "Hey!" He quickly switched the flask to his other hand before he took a sip from it in honor of the lost portion. "It's mine now." He responded before he wiggled his pinky at her. "It looks like sunbeams after rainfall, doesn't it?" His hand quickly closed into a fist as she released it, it was a surefire way to keep her from trying to take it from his hand.

Her offer intrigued him and his brows furrowed together. "That's your price for drinking with me? Some fancy looking costume jewelry?" He knew the jewelry itself was real, but he allowed himself the little things in life. "I think I'll pass. If drinking with me if all you're going to do. Answers to questions is what I'm really after and you'd drink just about anything once dehydration sets in."

His smile was pleasant enough as he motioned with a curl of his hand. "I'll be taking that back now if you don't wish to talk none."
 
He was going to play with her the hard way and there was no other choice now than to play his game the way that he wanted. He had all of the cards anyways and he was the one that quite literally held her life in his hands. She could only refuse so much or he could get bored and take it without her permission, or be under-handed enough he could give her over to the rest of his crew, who would do god knows what to her in the middle of the deck for all to view and enjoy. She'd heard of the lusty and animal nature of these men before, and she didn't enjoy the thought of being their prey.

"Fine." She took the flask in her hand and tipped it to her lips, taking a swig. It burned her throat on the way down and made her cough, but she handed it back to him as she wiped the remnants of it from her lips. As a lady, she had been only permitted to sip wine at certain events, which had nothing in comparison to this drink. Her eyes were watering but she tried to hide that from him. "I'll talk with you. But I want answers, too." She said, settling back against hte couch into a position that wasn't so stiff.

Even still, her arms crossed over her chest to fence away his interest in her physically. She may be giving in to him in a small amount but she was still a lady of proper raising and had dignity that needed to stay in tact.

"I'lll answer questions you've already asked. We lived in a smaller village outside of London. My father preferred to have his office there and venture into town to see his clients and handle his cases because it kept us away from the city." These were all true, though she left out the fact it hid how much wealth her father had amassed from stealing from his clients, as their house was rather on the lavish side and their estate lacking in nothing. Or had been.

"And yes, those dresses were mine. And my mother's, if memory serves correctly. I'm glad you tossed them to the swells"

That was the whole truth. Though the dresses were lovely, they were also uncomfortable and often made her itch insufferably. The materials were made for style and not comfort.

"Now you answer me this - where are we heading?"
 
The watering of Charlotte's eyes must have amused him given how wide his smile spread as he took the flask back from her. His eyes wandered freely despite the way her arms crossed in protection. The imagination and memory he possessed made it a moot point. He nodded briefly, agreeing to answer her questions in kind.

"Outside of London? Living lavishly, were you?" He either couldn't hold back the smile or refused to hold back the smile that graced his face. Again the metal in his teeth flashed in the low light. "You are glad that we tossed them? We could toss the last of your dresses too, if you like." He motioned vaguely with one hand as he sipped at the flask. Though he didn't voice it, he was certain that he had britches somewhere in the room that could be dressed with a belt to allow her a more natural appearance than all that froofroo nonsense.

The question of where they were heading brought a little chuckle to his lips. "That depends on where your family calls home now, Mouse. Your new home, where is it?"

Outside of the, comparatively, safe space of his room she could hear the stamping of boots upon the deck and the hollering of the crew as they saw to the morning routine. Some still sounded quite drunk, but they all sounded excessively merry and blood thirsty to civilian ears. Nico knew full well that he didn't have to threaten her with introducing her to the men outside, they were plenty threat in their own right.

Luckily they were at no risk of being interrupted as he had taken the night watch so he could watch the stars. He had done other tasks as well such as ensure they were headed towards the nearest port to get his men some much needed supplies before he found his neck slit while he slept.

Once more he offered the flask to her before he asked. "Are you hungry? Tired? I suggest that you eat now while we're using the good vitals from the merchant ship and not our own dwindling supply."
 
What little information she had given him was enough to spark his interest and she could already hear the gears in his head turning as he thought of the best way he could sell her for ransom. Thee man was obviously not a dense one when it came to turning a profit and lining his own pockets and she wondered dimly just what it would come down to in order for her to survive. Though survival for her up until this point had been merely existing, she knew that her padded life would come to a short and sudden stop. This pirate wasn't going to let her sit in the lap of luxury while the others in the ship lived a relatively poor life.

She chewed over her response as she watched him with guarded eyes, trying not to let the sound of scraping boots and raucous laughter goad her into saying too much again. Even still, her heart felt like it was fit to flutter out of her chest and she was forcing her face to stay neutral. She could hide the worried look from her lips, but her eyes told everything. They were cautious and watching the door as she tried to focus on what was going on.

"We were heading to the Colonies." She knew they were headed to Virginia first then heading North, away from the Spaniards in the Florida country that claimed to have found the Fountain of Youth. So instead, she bent the truth some more. "We were going to head South to the Florida country. They claim they found the Fountain of Youth and my father wants to see if he can make a deal with them. He has lofty goals of using it to turn a profit. If they can prove it even exists."

She was pulling bits of information she'd been given, though most of it was whispers among what servants they'd had left. There had been little news from the Colonies lately and she knew that things weren't going as well for her father as they had been expected to. He had brought all of his papers with him that he needed to prove who he was but he had also brought over a crew of people that whispered among the commonfolk when the ale got to flowing among them.

His other questions were easier to answer, as they didn't require much of the information to be dangerous. "I am... A bit hungry." She admitted, just a bit sheepishly as she knew it was rather improper to admit she was famished. She hadn't eaten since the night previous and it had been a light supper for her. "Are you the captain of this ship?"
 
Nico's grin stayed wide and in place as he watched Charlotte. The fortuitous waking of his crew may not have been enough to startle her, but she was very much aware of their presence on the decks. All it would require was opening the door and calling out her presence to end t heir little discussion, but he had no intention of doing such. Even if talks with her turned out to be fruitless, it would be a pity to throw her to the vultures outside.

He would buy them whores, food, and drink at the nearest port on his own dime (though the actual order in which they partook would be up to the individual pirate). It was things such as that which ensured he stayed in power. A little bit of bribery went a long way with men who lived from day to day fulfilling their basest desires.

The look in her eyes did indeed speak volumes of the worry she felt, though he made no move to threaten her with the men outside on his own. He didn't have to. His first mate, Nigel, stomped up to the door of his quarters and knocked. "Oi! Cap'n! Did ye grab somethin' t' eat yet?"

Nico's smile widened a bit and he turned his head to call back. "Could you bring me something? A nice big plate?" As the heavy boots outside stomped off again, likely in search of food given the response of 'aye' called back towards the door. He finished off the flask in another lengthy draw before he tucked it away in a drawer.

He nodded in response to her question. "Yes. I'm the captain of this ship." He remained sitting with one arm draped over the back of the couch as the others motioned towards the door. "That was Nigel, my first mate." He rose from his seat and strode towards the desk, the surface of which was entirely bare. The side he rounded to held the entry to each locked drawer.

A rattle of keys signified his entry as he unlocked the lower left drawer and sorted through his rolls of map. It was only then that he answered the information she had been so kind as to provide. "The Fountain of Youth? That's quite lofty for...what was it you said your father did?" He paused briefly before he questioned. "Banking, was it?" The drawer was relocked before he joined her again, one particular map in hand. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of where home is?"

He leaned down over her as he unfurled the map to show it to her, his eyes locked on her.
 
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