Chapter Text
Seokjin wakes before the sun rises. A faint orange hue creeping into the sky, warning all the stars to run before dawn arrives. He sits in bed, sweaty strands of blonde hair clinging to his cheeks. He brushes them away with clammy hands and sinks against the headboard.
Eustatius was stirring outside his window. The last of the drunkards were making their way home, or to a nice back alley to sleep off their troubles. Servants were beginning to rise, stoking the kitchen fires.
Papers sit upon Seokjin’s desk, inviting him to rise. His father’s crusade against piracy left a large chunk of his duties as Governor to fall into Seokjin’s hands. Seokjin is almost thankful for the nightmares; he was never an early riser and the work would only grow until he succeeds his father.
The Governor of Eustatius was known for his ruthless fight against the pirates. The man built an entire extra room in his manor to hold the trophies of pirates they’d executed.
There was a young boy in his dreams this time. His clothes were that of a merchant, made of nicer fabrics with a light coating of dust. As if the boy had been rolling in the fields. Seokjin can’t see the boy’s face from where he stands, only watching him move. The boy’s hands were rough with callouses and dust-covered too as they had waved at Seokjin. When Seokjin runs to greet the boy, their distance only grows larger.
Dream Seokjin had watched as a hulking figure appeared behind the boy. A shaggy beard and a greasy yellow smile. Seokjin runs, but he never gets closer. The boy never stops waving, no matter how Seokjin runs or how loud he yells, the boy refuses to move. The pirate draws his sword, cleaving it through the boy’s chest with a laugh before disappearing into shadow. Only then does Seokjin reach him. He falls to his knees hugging the corpse to his crest, blood pooling around them both. When he finally stops shaking he begins to brush the honey brown hair from the boy’s face, but who looks up at him is his mother. Her eyes glazed, the rest of his elegant features twisted in a scream.
Seokjin throws himself from the bed, standing on his feet with a slight wobble. He forces himself to his desk, pushing the images from his mind. There was too much to be done for his mind to be consumed by childish night terrors.
He dips his quill into ink and lets his work swallow up his brain. When he finally pulls the last document from the stack, morning has fully come. Golden light shines its way through the streets, all the up to Governor’s manor as it sits like Olympus atop the hills. The birds begin their songs, and Seokjin is careful to swallow back his exhaustion. Letting the sun’s warmth fill him with energy. A servant gently knocks at the door, calling Seokjin to rise and help dress. There was no time for drowsiness or relaxation.
After all, there was to be a ball tonight.
Taehyung arrives well after lunchtime. With every voyage, he grows larger and larger; although Seokjin remains taller. Seokjin still remembers when his younger brother was as thin as a piece of parchment, his features round and soft. Now he had grown into that cute face, with few traces of the cute little brother Seokjin once knew. Save for Taehyung’s smile, even from the docks Seokjin could see that smile, same as it was since Taehyung was a child.
The walk down to the docks is a whirlwind of people. The whole household is in motion making preparation for tonight’s event. With every step, Seokjin is met by lords and ladies, some already visibly drunk, come to give their greetings or by servants having him inspect every dish, every flower, every tablecloth for error before scurrying back to work.
When Seokjin finally reaches the private docks behind the house, he is ready for the night to end.
Then he steps onto the deck of the Montague , and the drudgery of bureaucracy shrivels up in the brightness of Taehyung’s smile.
“Commodore, how gracious of you to bless Eustatius with your presence.”
“Thank you brother,” Taehyung greets with a fake bow, “However, my presence is nothing but a candle compared to the great flame of the Governor’s wondrous heir.”
“Flattery will not excuse your tardiness.”
“I cannot control the waves, only those who encroach upon them.” He gives Seokjin a playful smirk before pulling him into a tight hug. Seokjin can’t help but smile too.
“You can control whether or not you stay on Montague instead of joining your loving older brother inside along with the entire population of Eustatius.”
“Ah, well about that,” Taehyung fumbles before giving up, “There’s nothing I can say, you know I hate the crowds.”
“They’ll stop throwing parties every time you return if you stop leaving for months at a time racking up noble deeds.” It’s a joke, but in his heart Seokjin wishes his brother to stop being the military prodigy of the Montague , and instead live out his youth in relative normalcy.
He gently ruffles Taehyung’s hair. The strong smell of saltwater, sand, and cheap rum rolls over his face. Seokjin flings himself to the side of the boat, heaving for dramatic effect.
“Is it that bad?”
“Did you bathe at all for the past three weeks?”
There’s a very clear pause before Taehyung gives a dubious, “Of course,” and Seokjin is trying not to vomit for real. Taking a better look he can see the grime on Taehyung’s face, how crumpled his uniform is, and his disheveled mass of hair that Seokjin just touched with ungloved hands, which he holds in front of himself with unbridled disgust.
For a moment there’s only laughter. Then some sharp pain beats into Seokjin’s skull. He is gripping onto the rails of the ship, knuckles tight as Taehyung sees the shift. The pain bursts like a blooming flower.
Seokjin’s staring into the ocean for one second, the smell of salt getting stronger and the sound of the waves filling his ears. Next he finds himself to be falling, and Taehyung’s hand brushes his back as he smacks into the sea.
The Governor of Eustatius had two sons, one was a scholar and one was a soldier. The scholar never left the port since the death of the Governor’s wife. The scholar never even went near the sea beyond standing at the docks. The scholar, unlike the soldier, never learned to swim.
Time seems to stop. It’s calm. The water is still, holding him like a sweet embrace. A warm sensation fills his body. his mother’s necklace, a small white crystal on a thin golden chain, floats gently in front of him. Seokjin stares at it, as it appears to glow, pulsing like his own heart under the water. A shout from above calls him from his trance, and back into the reality that he’s sinking.
Seokjin thrashes wildly, clawing at the side of the ship as he sinks further and further. It’s a short-lived panic. Taehyung’s steady hand is already firmly around his collar, hoisting him back above the waves and towards the rope lowered at the ship’s side. Seokjin may not have had the training of a soldier, but he was just as strong as those around him. Heaving themselves back on deck, there’s only the sound of panting breaths.
Eventually, Taehyung rises, offering a hand to his brother, “Are you okay? Sick? You went pale, have you been overworking yourself, or do I smell that bad?”
“You smell that bad.”
That earns a laugh as they head up towards the manor. The heat of the day almost drying their soaked bodies by the time they reach the doors. Seokjin immediately calls for two baths to be made up. Before he can protest, Taehyung’s almost carried away by the waves of servants; Seokjin calling for them to lay out his clothes as well before walking back to his own quarters. Even with the seawater still pooled inside his boots, it takes Seokjin an eternity of chatter before he finally reaches his quarters.
A new stack of papers adorning his desk.
------
Taehyung yawns during the ceremony and Seokjin has to keep himself from screaming. Thankfully by the time, Taehyung is officially declared the Commodore of Eustatius the bored look in his eye is replaced by a sparking expression of pride.
Under Seokjin’s guidance, the mid-sized ballroom looks as grand as a palace. Taehyung’s fight or flight instinct kicks in strongly at the whole gilded affair. He has to stay the entire party -- that is all he promised to do. As soon as Taehyung enters he takes a sharp turn towards the alcohol. The posse of soldiers that form his crew follow suit and Seokjin is once again alone in a crowd of fake smiles and mechanical greetings.
Hours pass in a haze. Seokjin spends much of it relocating drunken lords away from the serving girls and back to their seething wives. He constantly monitors the banquet and the wine, making sure it is replenished as it’s torn into. Then there’s the dancing.
It was no secret that Seokjin’s looks were praised by men and women across the whole sea. Lords and Ladies from port towns all over often remarked how the rumors of his beauty were not great enough to truly encapsulate it, and as shameless as Seokjin was he would respond by creating a more accurate tale of his own for them to relay instead.
A group of young girls surrounds him like a pack of wolves the second he is alone. They giggle loudly as he looks upon them, softly making their requests under lowered lashes and maidenly blushes. He accepts each dance with a charming smile, and the women are too busy admiring his handsome face to notice how hard he tries not to step on their feet.
There’s a break in the festivities as the wolf pack, satisfied with one of the handsome brothers, moves to corner Taehyung who has finally been wretched away from the wine.
A beat passes and Seokjin hears the low grumble of his father behind him. The Governor is all sharp lines and glamour less strength; the kind of man who radiated power. Cold, dark, eyes meet Seokjins as he turns. Taehyung has gotten the man’s thick brows, his strong jaw, and his nose. Seokjin had gotten his wide shoulders and almond-shaped eyes, but that was it. Seokjin was almost the carbon copy of his mother, he knew from the way his father was never quite looking at him but far away, as if he saw the ghost of his wife behind Seokjin’s eyes.
“Father, I am happy you are able to join the festivities.” If Taehyung disliked parties, the Governor hated them. He was a stoic dark spot in a den of brightly colored corsets and shining white uniforms. He gave awkward, hard greetings before retreating to the first son he could find.
“When I was made Commodore there was not this much,” he waves his arms to the shining crowd, “fanfare.”
“Oh, there was. From the stories they tell me, I don’t think you remember that day at all.” There’s a flicker of a smile that crosses the older man’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. A hard mask falling back in place. “Not that Taehyung will be remembering it much either.”
The newly minted Commodore had convinced his dance through some drunken smile to twirl him in place over and over. A quiet prayer was offered up by Seokjin that he didn’t vomit all over the poor girl’s green dress.
It was a marvel of silky emerald draping up to a snow-white corset embroidered with leaves. If Taehyung caught her again before the night ended, he would learn of her tailor so that his next tunic was just as stunning. The design was lovely enough to paint.
“He should be more careful, he won’t be able to move let alone sail tomorrow without assistance.” remarked the Governor.
“Sail? Father, he’s only just returned.”
“Yes, to gain his new title. We caught a traveling witch among some other scum. There’s another crew of filth off the coast of St. Lucia, who hired a witch to tell them of some treasure. They’re to be dealt with.” the man said sternly.
“What of the forces of St.Lucia? I’m sure they will deal with the bastards.”
“The witch told us of the plans. Taehyung sails faster than any letter, and St.Lucia’s forces do not deal with pirates as we do.” That was true. Many port cities branded the lower level pirates and sent them away; hanging was for captains and more known members.
As cruel as it was, Seokjin never found fault with his father’s ways, so long as he didn’t have to see it up close. To release any was to set the stage for the next murder. However, it was Taehyung. He hadn’t been home for even a full day, and this was a party; the younger man wasn’t even getting to relax.
“Surely he wishes to rest. We can give him a day father, can’t we?” There was a twitch in his father’s jaw, followed by a sigh.
“No. Taehyung knows his duty and has agreed to it. You would do well to get over this softness of yours. Pushing aside your personal feelings is a part of leading, I will not give my position to a lacking heir.”
“Of course father.”
“Good.” That was all he said before leaving to chat with Marshall Renald, a boorish man with a patchy beard that always seemed to spill more wine than he drank.
Taehyung will leave tomorrow, and Seokjin will stay behind at the manor docks. He will wave goodbye, tell him to be safe, and continue his work until Taehyung comes home again looking even more different than when he left or until they bring back his body. Seokjin hated these kinds of thoughts, but Taehyung hunted pirates. No matter how strong he grew or how many victories he won he was still facing pirates and Seokjin knew all too well the brutal, filthy, bloody nature of pirates.
Seokjin follows the cool breeze of the night to the one balcony of the ballroom, overlooking the sea. It was as if he wasn’t breathing the whole night as he took in gulps of fresh air, relishing the brief moment of isolation.
He lets his mind wander far away from duty, or parties, or paperwork. He casts his gaze to the moon, letting his eyes soak in the night. Everything drifts back to his dreams, to that boy he saw. Seokjin knew a merchant’s boy when he was younger. A boy around Taehyung’s age who would always manage to bring Seokjin from his serious, charming, demeanor of a Governor’s son down to a rowdy child. When they had played together, an outsider would have looked at three boys and deemed Taehyung -- Taehyung, to be the eldest among them.
These were memories that had been beaten almost into nothingness under the steady flow of studies and work and responsibilities Seokjin had been given. Every moment of his life he was either busy helping run the port city or entertaining those his father couldn’t be bothered to greet.
Shadows emerge from under the moon, making their way towards the docks like little flies. Seokjin can’t make out the shape, for a moment he sees flecks of white against some large square black splotch; like some kind of sail...
“Now you’ve abandoned me to the masses,” Taehyung calls behind him, snickering as Seokjin jumps at the sudden sound, “How you deal with these people every day is astounding. They talk so much, about such pointless things.”
“Yes, and when they’re done talking they give us money or ships or attempt to marry off their daughters to me.”
“Do they really?”
“Take one long look at my face. How could they not?” Seokjin gives his first genuine smile of the night before giving a more solemn expression, “So you leave again tomorrow?”
There’s a look of surprise across Taehyung’s face, he pauses before admitting defeat under Seokjin’s gaze, “Yes, for St Lucia.”
“You didn’t have to go so soon,” Taehyung moves to speak but Seokjin stops him, staring worriedly into his eyes, “You can’t be a soldier every second you’re awake. I know you love to sail, and I am glad someone is getting rid of those scoundrels; however, you are brother and for once I’d like to see you live a life that isn’t filled with blood and seawater.”
Taehyung looked guilty, it was true he was tired and had been looking forward to sleeping in a bed that didn’t move. The only thing that ever masked Taehyung’s love for home was the goal he shared with his father; to fill the seas with burning ships and the skulls of pirates. Seokjin was strong, he was smart and a good leader. He held hatred against the pirates too, but Taehyung knew he was softer in his heart.
“When I come back from St.Lucia I, Kim Taehyung,” he held his right hand, “give my word that I will stay for one whole week and rest properly.”
Seokjin wasn’t satisfied but accepted the oath with a nod.
“Now, I know your elderly bones hurt from all the dancing but it would make your younger brother so happy if you come and drink with him.”
A punch is thrown and expertly dodged. With laughter echoing into the sky Seokjin chases Taehyung back inside. Cups of wine spilling over his mind, dissolving the sadness and unease in his stomach in mindless joy. The shapes under the moon were forgotten as the ships closed in on the evening unnoticed.
------
Servants bustle around the almost empty ballroom. Some stragglers remain as do the two governor’s sons. Onlookers try to curb their smiles and staunch their laughter as the eldest, ever shining in the light with his white suit and golden hair, is struck sober as he attempts to peel the younger from the floor he has just passed out onto. Taking a whole tray of food down with him.
He can feel all the eyes on him as he tries to coax Taehyung from the floor. The boy is unmoving and firmly dead to the world. Seokjin hopes everyone is as drunk as Taehyung is as he lifts him over his shoulders. When they were younger it would have been a fun piggyback ride, and now it was a dangerous gamble that Taehyung wouldn’t wake up and vomit into Seokjin’s shoulder.
All the guest rooms had been taken, and of all the things to do Seokjin had forgotten to prepare a new bed for Taehyung’s room. He had outgrown it years ago and slept in taverns and random rooms when he stayed over in the past years, but Taehyung was to leave tomorrow. He deserved a nice bed.
Seokjin barely manages to kick open his own door, throwing Taehyung onto the bed. The younger doesn’t even flinch. Seokjin gently removes his jacket and gently loosens the undershirt’s collar. He tucks him in and grabs a nightshirt for himself before retreating into Taehyung’s room.
The small bed is soft and comfortable save for Seokjin’s legs which peak over the side. He scrunches his knees to his chest and lets the wine pull him into unconsciousness.
----
The darkness swirls inside his head. It bounces and slowly begins to take shape. Becoming a figure. Then a body. Until color blooms in the dark and it becomes a person.
The merchant boy.
Seokjin still can’t see his face even now, even in his dreams Seokjin can’t remember the boy’s face well enough. The boy is by the stables, where they had all used to play. Another boy glides up to him, Seokjin realizes it’s himself. He is only barely a teenager, skill awkward, and bony. The faceless boy looks up, and Seokjin can tell he was smiling.
The two boys begin to argue, and all the grace in young Seokjin’s posture leaves in second as the two begin to chase each other, yelling things he can’t quite make out. There’s playful, fake anger in his own young voice.
The feeling of joy is mutilated by the cold voice of his father. A younger Taehyung standing behind him, eyes fixed to the ground.
Ah, so it was this day.
There’s a resounding crack that Seokjin still can feel on his cheek. Then everything fades and a small voice he doesn’t know whispers in his ear.
“I’ll protect you from now on,” it promises.
And Seokjin believes it, despite the urge to assure it that he can protect himself, but he doesn’t. He waits for it to speak again, but there’s only a distant sound, like someone’s screaming. It grows louder and louder and Seokjin’s on his feet and he’s in Taehyung’s room, and there’s still screaming.
From the window, he sees bright light against the night sky. Fire. Everything is on fire. Voices crying and screaming and yelling overlapping into a monstrous symphony. Only Seokjin isn’t waking up.
There’s a strong cry outside his door and blood pooling underneath it. Why isn’t he waking up, he thinks, forcing himself towards the door.
Why aren’t I waking up?
The horrible scream is a woman’s. Nails scratching feverishly against the door.
It’s a dream.
There is a horrible gurgling sound and more blood trickling under the door.
It’s a dream.
Bones crunch and hands beat upon the door, it bursts open with a crack. The figure of a beat stands before him. Standing on the arm of a maid, her face beaten beyond recognition, is a pirate. A wicked, bloodied longsword in hand.
This is a dream.
“That would be nice.” says the beast as it lunges.
Light as a maiden’s kiss he feels the tip of the sword touch upon his chest. Gone as quickly as it came. The drowsiness finally let’s go of its hold on Seokjin’s mind, the daze lifts slowly as Taehyung stands above him, rapier in hand, and a pirate on the floor.
Not a dream.
Taehyung crosses over to Seokjin shaking him frantically until the fog on his eyes lifts and he’s back at last, “Listen to me carefully. Find father. The public docks are swarmed with pirates of all kinds, they’re attacking the port. I need to rally my men, wake the soldiers. Seokjin, are you hearing me?”
Seokjin nods.
“Good. Run as fast you can, don’t look back, don’t go to anyone. Find father and his personal guards and leave.”
“Why are they here?”
“For me, I recognize some of the men. Men who’s comrades I killed. They even knew I was in your room, tried to tie me up.”
“I can’t leave you.” He was shaking, god he was shaking. Even with the blood and the screaming, and the corpses he wouldn’t leave his younger brother alone in this nightmare. Wouldn’t leave him to die, no matter what the cost was.
Seeing that resolve in Seokjin’s eyes, Taehyung’s whole body straightened into a hard line. His voice darkened, his eyes growing cold as he gripped his brother’s shoulders, “You will find father. You’ve never fought a real battle. You will be in the way and you will die for nothing. Get. To. Father.”
Seokjin couldn’t respond. Taehyung had never spoken to him like, well, like a Commodore. There was no longer time for arguments as two more pirates barrelled into the room from the window, swords were drawn, hunger in their eyes. Taehyung pushes Seokjin behind him out the door, he does not look back.
So he runs.
There are bodies everywhere. Servants, soldiers, guests, children, and the grotesque bodies of pirates. Seokjin cannot bear to look, lest they suddenly stand and attack. The governor’s quarters lie in the corridor at the other end of the hall, past the stairs. There’s a loud band, and the wall is shattered by a cannonball. Landing inches from Seokjin’s feet, chips of splintered wood cutting into his face. He doesn’t feel them.
From the hole climbs another pirate, he only holds a hammer, it’s flecked with meat and matter and Seokjin feels like vomiting. The pirate leers at him, a wolf seizing up a deer. The man makes small movements, laughing as Seokjin flinches. He jerks forward and Seokjin frantically steps backward, into the chest of another monster.
“Hello pretty prince.” it coos to him.
Without thinking Seokjin jumps away, there’s no exit. They circle him, closing in. There’s no exit. Only, stairs.
Each step sends a sharp pain down his body, by the fourth he has purchase on the floor again and takes off running.
The study. Father keeps a gun in his study.
The foyer is a battlefield. No one pays any mind to him as he dashes through, he makes the mistake of looking behind him. The two at the stairs, walk calmly through the carnage, towards him. Seokjin runs faster, fear numbing his feet as he wades through hell.
People reach for him, he can’t tell if they’re bad or good. He only stops at the sight of that green dress. Her stomach open, organs draping along with the cuts of silky fabric as if they were decoration. The face is the worst, it’s pinched in a horrific twisted expression of agony. She’s missing an eye. Her hair is bloody, but Seokjin can see the faint color, pale blond. Like his own, like his mother’s.
“Little prince?” says one.
“We want to talk.” says the other, as they step into the hallway. The door to the study at the end.
Seokjin hurls himself so hard he feels his elbow slam against the door with a thump. He flings it open and locks it, throwing a chair in front of him before racing to the desk, opening every drawer.
The gun is gone.
He can hear them calling. The door splinters as they rip into it. Nowhere to go. The study is at the edge of the house, one window with a cliff below it. Seokjin grabs a fire poker and manages to get behind one of the long velvety curtains as the wolves finally make their way inside.
The two sniff around the whole study, taunting the hiding prince to come out. At the window they see a missing curtain, it hangs down to the cliffs below.
“He jumped?”
“Lucky little thing survived.”
“Think someone else fetched him?”
“If they did, we’ll take out their throat, and get him back.” The threat sends a chill down Seokjin’s spine.
Saddened by a bad hunt, the creatures begin to turn away until they stick their noses to the breeze. Golden as the sun, tufts of hairs blowing out from behind the curtain.
“I didn’t think little princes played tricks?”
They make for him with such ferocity, Seokjin can only step to the side before the larger of the two grabs his arm. Seokjin jerks against it, but the grip is so tight. Looking up into the man’s eyes he knows the pirate won’t let go even if he snaps Seokjin’s arm.
So he jams the fire poker into the man’s chest. Seokjin yanks himself free and flies past the other one to the door. Foot catching on the broken wood, he feels a horrible twist in his right foot and falls as his ankle gives way. Scrambling up he hears the fire poker clattering to the ground with a loud grunt. A boot kicks his back holding him to the ground, it’s the bigger one, the man’s hand jamming into his hair and ripping his head upwards. Seokjin lets out a pained cry.
The smaller one leans down in front of him, reaching for his neck and pulling out the necklace. He holds the white crystal in his grubby hands, in the moonlight it emits a light purple glow. The man reaches for the chain and pulls.
There’s the sound of a scream, and the smell of burnt flesh as the smaller pirate falls on his ass, the hand that pulled the necklace bright red and blistering.
The bigger one only laughs and let’s go of Seokjin’s hair, his head hitting the floor, “So we take him in alive. What a lucky little prince.”
Seokjin barely hears his words, his vision swimming from the force of his forehead colliding with the wooden floors. He hears a shout of surprise and comes to face the body of the smaller pirate, glassy-eyed and blood leaking from his mouth.
The boot lifts from his back as the bigger pirate begins to engage the attacker. Seokjin moves away from the sharp cry of blades hitting against each other. He crawls further into the study, to the fire poker. The bigger pirate loses, the thud of his body slapping the ground resonates in Seokjin’s ears.
At first, all he can see is the blade. A wickedly sharp scimitar, it’s a fine blade. A silver hilt, with an emerald as the tip. The soldier is dressed well, he’s striking in the moonlight. He has big, boyish eyes like pits of ink as they look upon the defeated pirate. Seokjin moves to thank his rescuer when he sees the brand, it’s on the man’s neck.
He doesn’t know what crew it’s from, but he knows a pirate when he sees one. The hope drains from his face and moves to point the poker up to the man. The handsome beast stares deep into Seokjin’s eyes for a moment, searching for something. Seokjin uses the pause to lunge forwards.
The other half of the two had moved slowly, but with clunky brutal movements. This new pirate was fluid like the ocean itself. In seconds he parried Seokjin’s poker, pressing forwards with his strength and grabbing Seokjin’s wrist until the poker fell to the floor once again.
His childlike face meant nothing. Seokjin was strong, but with his ankle and his shock, he was easily overpowered. This beast was going to kill him.
With all his strength Seokjin managed to spit his final words, “You filthy fucking pirate don’t touch me! When they catch you they will strip your skin off piece by piece until you just a bleeding mass of screams. When you feel the blood in your lungs as they hang you my ghost will be laughing into your ear and over your corpse, you monstrous savage.”
The pirate laughed. He was still laughing as he took both of Seokjin’s wrists and bound them. Still laughing as he gaged the governor’s son and threw him over his shoulder, even as Seokjin’s bound fists beat into the solid muscle of his back. Only as they stepped out of the study did he finally stop laughing.
“Do you call everyone you don’t know a ‘monstrous savage’?” he gave a low chuckle as he walked through the halls. Chaos still swirls around them, “You must give terrible first impressions.”
----
Taehyung wasn’t sure what was sweat and what was blood anymore. Whichever it was, he was drenched. Fighting through the courtyard to the soldier’s quarters had been anarchy, but they were finally pushing them back.
What concerned him most were the pirates who weren’t fighting. They were all cowards so they’d naturally run as the soldier came at them as a unit, but even the wildest stopped coming for them. They’d occasionally swing at the defenseless, but they were searching for something.
For me . He thought with a pang of guilt. He’d brought them all here. He dispelled those feelings, there was still good to be found. All the bastards were in one place, he could slaughter them all in one night.
With his forces at his back, they advanced through the house, racking up bodies. Like rats they scattered, rushing outside like the spineless little pests they were.
Taehyung found a cowering girl in one corridor, right above the foyer. She’d come from the ballroom, a cleaning rag still clutched in her hand. He helped her to her shaking feet calling for a guard, “He will take you to the governor’s quarters, my father, brother, and all their guards will keep you safe.”
The woman shook her head, lips trembling. Taehyung gave her shoulders a squeeze, before giving a nod to the soldier to move her. Her voice was raw, he could barely hear her yell, “Young Master Seokjin is in the ballroom. There was some man holding him.”
“Ballroom?”
She nodded. The soldier started moving her again as Taehyung took off towards the ballroom.
He had fought all kinds of men. He’d be stabbed and beaten and nearly killed plenty of times in his crusade against piracy. In all those battles, Taehyung had never felt such fear. Seokjin was strong, he had training, but he’d never killed a man, never had to. The image of his older brother’s body, eyes glassy, throat slashed, blood coating his blonde hair. He was only 4 years old but Taehyung remembered when they’d come back with her body. Seokjin’s mother. He’d seen her blonde hair covered in blood, her ghastly pale skin, and her face, which looked so much like his brother’s, devoid of life.
It wasn’t hard to imagine what Seokjin’s corpse would look like.
Running over bodies, past what were probably enemies, Taehyung didn’t care. He only saw that horrific image over and over. He burst into the ballroom where three soldiers encircled the man. He didn’t look like a pirate; he could’ve been a guest at Taehyung’s party, but the mark on his neck. A pirate.
Seokjin was flung over his shoulder, thrashing. The pirate didn’t seem to notice, one hand on Seokjin holding him, the other holding a large scimitar. Taehyung met his eyes, even with the hard darkness that covered the pirate’s face Taehyung knew those eyes.
He surged forwards, but the pirate had turned when Taehyung entered. They pushed him to the balcony, all the while Taehyung looked down at the terrified expression of his brother, his mouth gagged. White, hot fury went coursing through Taehyung’s body.
Still, the pirate didn’t surrender until his back was against the balcony. Seokjin went deadly still as his face was pointed to the trees below.
“This is not a fight you can win, scum.” Taehyung snarled.
The pirate raised his blade straight at the other man, ignoring the three soldiers behind Taehyung, “Are you a betting man Commodore ?”
There was no response as the soldiers behind Taehyung slowly pulsed forwards. No one dared to attack with Seokjin perched so precariously on the man’s shoulder.
“Well, I am. I would bet my own life that I can win this fight,” there was a twinkle in his eye that struck something in Taehyung, “in fact I promise I can.”
“I know you.” was all Taehyung could say. The pirate winked, and then he jumped over the railing.
Taehyung let out a scream, ordering anyone that could hear him to converge outside. Running as fast he could he tore through the manor.
There was an empty wagon, filled with hay, and then nothing. The boats at the docks began to leave, all the rats were scurrying back home. They had not come for him.
They came for Seokjin and they’d won.
---
Jeongguk could hear the Commodore’s yells over all the fighting. He hurried through the trees to the cliffside. It was one of Yoongi’s more genius plans, but it was as always, so incredibly dangerous.
The rope, tied to a rock, led down to the ship. They had come in just as they would be leaving, un-seen from a place no one thought to guard.
“I know you see the ship, so I assume you also see the rocks. If you struggle while I climb, you will fall. We can still achieve our goal with your corpse, so don’t think dying will harm us. It honestly would be easier if you were a corpse,” at that he finally stopped struggling.
As they climbed down he could hear the rocks rattling. A small one hurtled down, and Jeongguk turned slightly so that it missed Seokjin’s back, before resuming his climb.
When they were about ten feet from the deck, he felt the rope begin to slip. Jeongguk simply jumped the rest of the way down. The body on his shoulder seized then went limp.
“Did you kill him?” Hoseok called, moving to see their captive as Yoongi still slumped against the mast.
Jeongguk removed him from his shoulder, laying him on the deck and inspecting his face. He was still breathing, “I think he fainted.”
“We only needed a necklace Jeonggukie,” Yoongi said as he moved to lean against Hoseok.
“Someone else tried to take it off, and it cooked their hand.” He didn't look at them as he spoke, only staring down at the older man’s face as it rested against the ship.
It just had to be you didn’t it? Jeongguk had hoped that the moonlight was playing tricks on his eyes, that the heat of battle had confused his mind; even as he taunted the Commodore he still held onto a chance that he was wrong. He wasn’t.
The other two lost interest and went about calling orders, as they moved out into the open sea. They’d wait until morning to start planning.
Carefully he lifted Seokjin and brought him to the brig. He set him and the cell and came back a few minutes later with a blanket he’d managed to scrounge up. He undid the rope on his wrists, gently pulled off the gag. Jeongguk tried to position him comfortably.
“Your reputation will suffer if you start treating prisoners so tenderly,” Namjoon laughed from behind him.
He didn’t need to clarify that Seokjin wasn’t truly a prisoner. He was a means to an end that they hadn’t planned on taking. Jeongguk could feel the guilt in Namjoon’s laughter, for taking someone from their home.
Jeongguk turned to face him, “Captain.” There was something in his eyes that he hadn’t beaten down fast enough when he looked at Namjoon. There was some joy, some sorrow, and some anger all mixed together.
He could tell Namjoon saw it. He locked the cell and went for the stairs, his back to both of them. Quietly he spoke, “I’ve told you my story before Captain. How I came to leave my home.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“That’s him.”
Namjoon studied Seokjin’s face intently, “The one you made the promise to?”
He nodded.
Above them, Hoseok blurted out from where he and Yoongi had been eavesdropping, “So we took the Governor’s son?”
“It appears so,” Namjoon replied as Jeongguk marched up the steps. Desperate to be anywhere else, to be alone.
Seokjin didn’t wake until they were far from Eustatius. The smell of smoke and sweat wafting from his clothes. It was dark, and his bed felt hard as it gently rocked. Or rather the room rocked. He reached for a candle only to hit metal.
He groped in the dark for his ankle, still throbbing and mangled under his fingers. It was foolish, childish to hope it was still a dream. In that dark, he found he no longer cared, and silently prayed to whatever looked upon him to let it all be a dream. Tears left clean streaks through his grimy face as he begged, a small whisper in the shadows,
“Please let it be a dream.”