A World Awaits

The next day found him, McTavish, Briere, Meg and Sidney in a long boat heading ashore. They met Claude, Neal, Skinner and Anna halfway, all of them looking like they were rode hard and put up wet. Claude was sporting a black eye and split lip while Anna’s eyes were struggling not to cross. McTavish simply rolled her eyes at them in passing, John trying not to flush as he thought about his sinful actions the previous night.

They arrived on shore and John’s first steps felt off, as if he were expecting the ground to pitch and sway underneath him. Faltering a little in his step he heard Briere chuckle before his hand landed on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it mon ami, you just finally ‘ave your sea legs is all. Takes a bit getting used to bein’ on dry land again.”

John smiled at the older man and nodded, following the group up the dock and into a small town. He turned only to find McTavish walking an opposite way, her brows drawn as she looked at something. He meant to follow her but a strong hand and a stern shake of Briere’s head had him following him instead. They walked into what could only be described as a tavern, regardless of the fact that it was not even noon, and found most of their crew passed out in various states of undress. Briere simply rolled his eyes and ordered four pints, handing them to John, Sidney and Meg before clinking them together.

John managed to choke down a couple of mouthfuls, the foul ale doing nothing for his palette as he surveyed the damage of the room around him. Tables were overturned, sleeping bodies strewn about as if it were an everyday norm. The buxom barkeep continued to wipe down the bar as if nothing were amiss, winking at Briere as he ordered another ale. Sidney and Meg had managed to disappear again, leaving John at the bar with Briere and his sleeping crewmates.

John stayed at the tavern with the older man, conversing with him and enjoying himself as Briere told him of his previous life. A life in France with his wife and three sons, all of which had been taken from him by the fever when he was at sea with the French Navy. He spoke of a life of love and joy, his sons so full of vibrant youth and his wife so full of passion and devotion. Returning from sea to find their fresh graves had broken the man beyond repair, turning him to drink and despair before McTavish pulled him out of the gutter.

He stayed drinking with Briere well into the night, when their crewmates started to stir and patrons flooded the tavern as the sun set. By that point John was rightly drunk, wondering if he would ever find the love in a wife that Briere explained.

The bar wench was winking at him, refilling his mug and leaning over so her breasts were practically pushed in his face. He heard swearing in Russian from his right before Ovie was leaning over, running his large fingers down her exposed arm, making her giggle as he leaned over to whisper something dirty in her ear. John couldn’t help the flush that heated his cheeks and neck as the woman batted her eyelashes at the overly large Russian before calling over her shoulder to the other barmaid, taking Ovie by the hand and leading him to the back of the tavern followed by whoops and cheers from his crewmates.

“Whiskey, straight.”

He turned to look into the cool blue gaze of his captain, sitting at the now vacant stool next to him. Her drink was placed in front of her and she threw it back before sighing in relief and ordering another, turning to John as her fingers traced along the edge of the glass.

“So here I am, thinking that the newest member of me crew has never lain with a woman and I find you winking and flirting at the bar wench! Who’d have thought!”

John flushed even more, his ears a shade of crimson that rivaled the sails on McTavish’s ship.

“Ah and yet that blush reminds me so of a virgin bride on her wedding night.”

He honestly couldn't help it as he flushed more, digging his chin into his collarbone in embarrassment.
A loud commotion from the corner drew their attention, Kane leaning over a smaller man as they yelled at each other. The other man threw the first punch, which Kane easily dodged before landing a fist right in the man’s oversize gut. His punch was a catalyst as the whole tavern broke into a brawl, patrons grabbing whomever they could find just to drunkenly land a punch to them. John ducked as a fist came flying at his face, turning to find Molly landing a fist to a man’s nose, blood spurting out of it as he swore and fell to the ground.

She laughed and grabbed John’s hand, pulling him from the brawl at a run as they ducked and dodged through the fighting men, bulldozing their way out of the drinking establishment. When they broke through the chaos and out into the street Molly dropped his hand, letting out a laugh and throwing up her arms to the night sky.

“It has been too long!” She heaved a breath as she looked back at John. “Too long since I had a good bar brawl like that!”

John shook his head, a bar brawl not making it onto his personal list of things that were fun, regardless of his new pirate status. He watched in drunken fascination as she looked out to the ocean, her wavy blonde hair loose as it blew in the night breeze. The moonlight illuminated her complexion, casting her as an angel in front of him as he moved towards her. She stopped spinning in time for his hands to catch her hips and his lips to crash into hers.

Molly squeaked, her hands coming up to fist through his now neck length hair. John moaned as her short nails scrapped across his scalp, her tongue invading his mouth as if to lay claim and conquer it. He was too drunk to be embarrassed as he pulled her hips to his, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal as she plundered his mouth.
She broke away from him with a moan, eyelids heavy as she took him in.

“Do you know what you’ve gotten yerself into Johnny?”

It was the first time she’d used that name for him and it did things to him he wouldn’t be able to explain without blushing. He nodded his head stupidly, all of his blood having rushed southward in a hurry.

Her wicked smile left him short of breath as her hand traced down his chest, fingers toying with him across his stomach before coming to a stop just inches above where he wanted them the most.

“I know you are a man of God, John. Are you sure you wish to give into temptation?”

The sober part of him screamed at him, yelling and demanding that he hold true to his values, that he must wait until he was joined in holy matrimony before he gave himself to anyone. He could feel as the pirate side took over, his mind replaying what he had seen below deck with Sidney, the feel of Molly’s lips against his, her tongue in his mouth, her ample breasts pressed against his chest, and he gave in, pushing away his conscious with more joy than he would ever care to admit.

His large hand grabbed her forearm where it had stilled, slowly moving it down until her hand was cupping him over his trousers. He had to visibly hold back his moan as her fingers gave an experimental squeeze as he met her gaze.

“Teach me,” his words were accompanied by her hands leaving him, causing him to moan in displeasure. She reached for his hand instead, dragging him behind her as she made for an inn. She led him up towards her room, shutting the door and pushing him against it, pasting herself against his body like a glue. His head dipped down, desperately searching for her lips, when she pulled back meeting his eyes as the cool blue gaze of his captain met his.

“I will teach you, but when we get back to my ship, nothing changes. Aye?”

John nodded, his eyes almost black with lust as he glanced down to her heaving chest, wanting nothing more than to lick the soft skin presented to him.

“Aye, but for tonight, you are mine.”

~~~


John awoke with a groan, his head pounding as he brought a hand up to shield the light from his eyes. He rolled over and his eyes snapped open when his arm flopped across a warm body. Waves of blonde hair lay spread across the sheets and down a toned back, the sheet covering her modesty below the waist but leaving the naked expanse of her back for John to enjoy.
Little by little as the haze of sleep left, John’s memory returned.

“I will teach you, but when we get back to my ship, nothing changes. Aye?”

“Aye, but for tonight you are mine.”

John let out a growl as he reclaimed her soft lips, the alcohol in his system voiding any sense of inhibitions or propriety as he pinned her against the door, working his leg between hers as he let his body run on the most basic instincts a man possessed.

Her hands roughly threaded themselves through his hair, pulling and scratching him as they tilted his head to where she wanted it. John broke away from her, his lungs burning with the need for air as his lips landed on her neck, tasting the salt from the ocean across the soft skin of her neck.

His hands held onto her hips, squeezing as the haze of alcohol burned away and reality came crashing back down. He pulled back and tried not to let his inexperience show on his face but Molly just grinned and led him over to the bed, pushing him down before climbing on top of him. John’s hands fell to her hips again, groaning as she ground hers down onto his erection.

She grabbed his hands off her hips and placed them on her breasts, her breath catching when he squeezed them. Her hands came down to untuck her shirt, pulling it over her head, John watching in rapt fascination as she undid a binding around her chest, leaving her bare before his gaze.

He tried to control the shaking in his hands as he cupped her breast, his calloused thumb tracing across her peaked nipple. Her hands cupped the back of his head, pulling him into a sitting position and bringing his lips to her other breast. John let out a moan as his lips closed around her nipple, Molly’s hand tightening in his hair as he scraped his teeth over it.

She grabbed his hand not currently occupied with her breast and led it down her body, placing it over the drawstrings of her pants and helping him to untie them. When he had enough room he plunged his hand down, letting out a moan around the nipple in his mouth when his finger delved into liquid treasure. He tore his mouth away from Molly’s breast, pulling her head down and crashing his mouth into hers.

From there it was a mad dash, hands ripping at clothing until they both lay naked and entangled on the small bed. John rolled over, pinning her to the mattress and grunting as her hand encircled his pounding erection. He sucked in a harsh breath, his lungs burning with the need for oxygen as she pumped him up and down, her tongue tracing wicked patterns over his collarbone.

When he felt as if he were to snap he pushed her hand away, trying not to fumble as he aligned himself, the wet slick feel of her causing every last drop of blood in his body to rush south. He pulled his head away from her neck, locking eyes with her blue gaze and took a deep breath.

“Are you sure?”

The smile she gave him was equal parts adoring and infuriating, her only response was to circle his hips with her legs and pull him into her. She let out a moan as he filled her, back arching off the bed and blunt nails digging into his shoulder. John froze, every muscle in his body tensing as he tried to fight off the waves of ecstasy flowing through him, praying with his body to not give in now.

How could something that he had been taught all his life was wrong feel so incredibly good?

John dropped his head to Molly’s shoulder when she squeezed around him, the tight, wet, heat nearly undoing him. Her lips brushed his ear before biting down on the lobe, causing his hips to involuntarily jerk forward.

“That’s it John, move for me.”

John groaned and retracted his hips, pulling out almost all the way before slowly sheathing himself inside of that heat he never wanted to leave. He was fighting every instinct his body had to just pound into her, a beast raging beneath his skin wanting nothing more than to claim her as his. She dug her nails hard into his shoulders causing him to hiss as their blunt edges cut through the skin on his back. Her teeth pulled at his earlobe again, her tongue quickly soothing the bite she left.

“Let go. I know you want to,” she whispered into his ear, pulling his hips to her hard with her strong legs. John faltered in his thrusts locking eyes with her once more.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

The smile she gave him was wicked, and traveled down his spine like a shot.
“You wont, now give it to me.”

John was still hesitant but one more clench of her muscles had him gasping and snapping his hips hard into her, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the small room. He let out a sound from deep in his chest that must have been a growl as he let himself go, pounding into her sweet body with ruthless abandon. He would still have been worried about hurting her if it hadn’t been for the sounds leaving her mouth, her moans and cries of pleasure spurring him on as he raced towards his completion.

He watched in rapt fascination as Molly trailed her hand down her body, shoving it between them and rubbing in a fast pace over a place that had her body bowing off the bed, a high pitched cry escaping from her mouth. John grunted as she squeezed him, his name falling off of her lips in a sigh had him crying out as he burst, white hot light exploding behind his eyes as he slammed into her, his orgasm releasing so fast that he couldn’t stop his hands from digging into Molly’s hips so hard there would surely be bruises.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before he was able to float back down to earth, but when he did he collapsed on top of her, laving her neck with sloppy kisses as he struggled to regain his breath. He winced as he pulled out of her, rolling onto his back and pulling her up so she was draped over his chest, his eyelids already feeling heavy.

“Are you quite sure you’ve never done that before?”

John let out a laugh and felt his cheeks fill with heat. He stroked his hand up her sweat slick back, rubbing his thumb across her shoulder.

“Was it okay?”

She scoffed and placed a kiss on his chest.
“More than okay, Mr. Tavares. You are quite the quick learner.”

John placed a kiss on the top of her mussed hair, the combination of the alcohol and his orgasm quickly pulling him into sleep.

A stirring body to his side snapped him out of his daydream, Molly rolled over and blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she yawned and stretched. She settled herself on her side facing him, head propped up by her hand as she smiled that predatory smile at him, not caring that the sheet didn’t cover her bare chest. He couldn’t help himself as his gaze flicked downwards, taking in the soft pale skin, riddled with small bruises. He licked his lips as he thought about the previous night, the sounds he had torn from her mouth as he sucked and nipped at her breasts, the way she had keened against him as his fingers traced through her wetness.

His arousal must have been written all over his face as her smirk deepened and she pushed herself up to her knees, the thin sheet falling away and allowing him to get a full view of what his hands and mouth had studied the night before. Like a lioness she pounced, pinning him to the bed as she threw a leg over his hip, pushing down the sheet and leaving him exposed to her gaze. His eyes rolled into the back of his head when she moved over him, sliding her wetness along his arousal.

She chuckled at his response before she moved off him, slinking her way down his body. Before he could protest, or ask what she was doing, her lips were on him, taking him into her mouth and ripping a curse clear out of his mouth. His hand came down to pull her off of him, for surely this had to be wrong in so many ways, but he found himself instead threading his finger through messy hair, moaning and falling back to the sheet as she worked him.

His eyes were squeezed shut, engulfed in the pleasure that the warm wet cavern of her mouth was providing him as he struggled to hold onto at least a shred of sanity. He could feel the pleasure running through his veins, that telltale tingling at the base of his spine as his hips shallowly thrust into her. He made the mistake of opening his eyes, glancing down his chest and letting out a growl when her blue eyes met his, her mouth stretched obscenely around him. Her gaze on his was his undoing, the damn inside of him released as he cried out and bucked up without warning, releasing into her mouth with a roar that must have shook the building. Stars danced behind his eyes as he panted, his body coming back down to earth from the heavens.

When he finally got his breathing under control he opened his eyes, watching as she sat on his legs, hair amiss and smirk firmly planted on her face. She climbed up his body, his spent cock twitching as she brushed against it. She leaned down to kiss him, languidly as if they had all the time in the world. When he pulled back from her he could feel his eyes drooping as she chuckled at him.
He pulled her close to him, arm secured around her as she snuggled into his chest, his post coital bliss pulling him into a warm deep sleep.

When he awoke again she was gone. John sighed and dressed, splashing some cold water on his face before heading to the street and to the tavern. Finding Ovie asleep across one of the booths and Kyle curled in a ball on the floor, John simply ordered an ale from the barkeep and waited for the rest of the crew to arrive. One by one they trickled in, knowing that they needed to be back on the ship by high noon. When most were accounted for Molly strode in, slamming the door against the wall and bristling with fury.

"We leave in twenty minutes! Any man not aboard at that time gets left behind!”

She slammed the door on her way out and John shot a skeptical look to Briere, the older man simply shrugging at their Captain’s fury before leaving to round up the missing men. Everyone managed to get aboard in time and they pulled away from the harbor, fully stocked to capacity with provisions for their trip to the colonies.

John took his place on deck, loosing the main line as Claude took his place behind the wheel. Molly appeared from her quarters, looking no less infuriated then when he had last saw her in the tavern.

“Set sail 20 degrees northeast.”

The crew stilled at the captain’s orders, most of them knowing that they were to make for the colonies to avoid British capture.

“Captain,” Claude spoke up, voicing the opinion of the crew, “I thought the plans were to the colonies.”
Molly leveled her First Mate with a stare that could wilt flowers.

“Plans change. Set sail, 20 degrees northeast, the lot of you! Or I shall find some sailors that are worthy enough to sail under my colors!”

That got the crew moving, John included as he hoisted the mainsail, wondering what could have possibly changed Molly’s mind.

Two days underway and he could tell the crew was restless, the joking and laughing that had once been a daily part of their schedule now nonexistent. The crew didn’t see hide or hair of their captain, keeping the ship on course towards Great Britain but never getting a reason as to why they were sailing dead on into their enemy’s waters.

John hadn’t spoken directly to his captain since the morning that he had woken up with his cock in her mouth, wondering if her sour mood had anything to do with him. Whispers had started below deck, rumors that the captain had caught word of something that was driving her back towards England. John was scrubbing the deck, stationed next to Kane when he finally found the courage to ask the younger man what was troubling the captain.

“Ah, you don’t know do ye? Rumor ‘as it that the Capt’n used to be quite the proper Irish lady, married and settled with quite a wealthy estate along the coasts near Dublin. Well us Irish, see, we never quite preferred the idea of an English king, and fer centuries there’ve always been uprisin’s and the like. Well McTavish’s husband was found to be a leader of these so called uprisin’s, and was hanged without trial in London. Body was beheaded and thrown into the street, dubbed a traitor to the crown.”

John had stopped scrubbing at this point, too keen on Kane’s story.

“Well, as it’d have it, poor bugger was innocent. Englishman that accused him didn’t like the way ol’ Mick was talkin’ or some shite like that. And Capt’n well, she loved her husband somethin’ fierce an’ after his death she sold all that land, bought a ship and found ‘erself a crew all on account of one thing.”

John remembered his conversation with the captain, the name of the very ship he sailed on.

“Revenge.”

“Aye revenge. She’s been ‘ell bent on sinking every bloody British ship she can find. Normally kills all the crew but one and sends him back by ‘is lonesome to tell ‘em that Captain Molly McTavish sent ‘em. Was why we’re all so surprised when she let you three live.”

“And the man that killed her husband?”

“Ah yes, well that where is gets a wee bit tricky. See, that man there just happens to be the Commodore for the British Royal Fleet, one of the most powerful men on the high seas. An’ I recon she’s got word of where the sorry bastard is, and we’re goin’ to find him.”

“This Commodore, what’s his name?”

“That would be Commodore Bettman, known far and wide for one thing, and that’s killin’ pirates.”

~~~


It took a week of hard sailing before they were back in British waters, narrowly outmaneuvering many a war ship and taking over three cargo vessels. He watched in equal parts fascination and horror as the crew easily took the ships, most of the behemoth cargo ships too slow and outgunned to even put up a fight. Even though a white flag was raised no quarter was shown and John had to watch as countless good men were tossed overboard, left to die in the sea.

The ships were then burned, deemed too slow to keep up with the frigate that the Revenge was. Apparently, McTavish would only take command of another ship if it were of equal class, and seeming as no ship on the seas, besides the Royal Navy’s flagship, was faster then hers she only had her one.

They were about a day out of London when she called most of the men onto the deck, standing on the quarterdeck overlooking them looking all the more like a pirate goddess to John’s eyes. She was wearing black slop pants, tucked into black boots that gleamed, freshly polished in the sunlight. A shirt, red as her sails billowed in the breeze and her cool blue gaze looked out from underneath a well worn hat, tucking back her long blonde braid.

“As you well know,” he voice rang out over the deck. “We are headed towards England. We are to put an end to Commodore Bettman and his pirate hunting once and for all!”

Cheers went out among the men, some of them lifting their swords in the air in triumph.

“You have all served me well, given me your blood and sweat, the strengths of your backs and the precision of your swords. I ask now that you fight with me, one last time to show Bettman, to show the world that we will not be conquered! Are you with me lads!”

The crew, John included, let out whoops and yells of agreement, stomping their feet on the deck.

“Prepare, for at dawn we fight.”

John watched as she walked back towards her quarters, wanting nothing more but to follow her but choosing instead to talk with his fellow crewmates. He completed his tasks for the day and was heading towards the quarterdeck to fetch Meg for watch when he overheard Claude and Molly from her rooms.

“My eyes tell me that the flagship Alliance will be stationed at Port Taw in a days time for training exercises. The Commodore will no doubt be on board, wanting to see his pride and joy is securely taken care of. If we get there we can have the element of surprise and not only kill the British scum but take the ship as well.”

“What if we cant? The river the port sits on leads inland and has no alternate escape route, we’d be a sitting duck.”

“It is a chance we will have to take. We outgun the Alliance two to one and she is slow on the bend. If she catches sight of us we can draw her out into open water where we have the advantage. There’s no way Bettman would pass up an opportunity like that.”

He could hear Claude sigh, the Frenchman obviously worried.
“If it works we would have the beginnings of our very own fleet.”

“Aye, the Alliance of which would need a captain.”

“If you think it will work, you know I will follow you into battle no matter the circumstances.”

“Aye, I do. Which is why you’d make a fine Captain, Mr. Giroux.”

John scurried away from the door and went to find Meg to relieve him of his shift, wondering if Molly’s plan for them would work, or if tomorrow would be the last sunrise he’d lay eyes on.

That night Claude found him, telling him that the captain had summoned him with an impish grin on his face. John fought the urge not to blush, scurrying above deck and to her quarters in a hurry. She didn’t say anything as she opened the door, dressed only in a slip, and no words were spoken as he hoisted her into his arms and slammed the door shut with his foot, laying her down on her large bed and ravishing her well into the night, their cries of passion no doubt heard well below deck.

He awoke the next morning to find her dressed and pouring over a chart on the table, a plate of uneaten breakfast next to her. Knowing that he should leave but not finding the strength to he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her and nipping at the soft skin of her neck. She sighed and leaned back into him, pulling him down for a kiss which led to him bending her over the table and taking her roughly from behind, stars exploding behind his eyes as she squeezed him like a vice, crying out as he pumped into her.

When he finally was able to tear himself away from her he redressed and pulled her into his arms, whispering words of reassurance that she didn’t need to hear. Her face had already morphed back to that of his captain, all cool confidence and brutality as he slipped out her door.

The crew was buzzing in anticipation as land was called out from the crow’s nest, as they came around the bend they could see her, the HMS Alliance moored proudly at harbor. At this point the Revenge had to have been spotted, but the Alliance still wasn’t moving, Molly barked out orders, ready to come about as soon as the ship made chase. John glanced around nervously, something in his gut telling him that this wasn’t right, the Revenge was already too far down the river, the river’s opening to the Bristol Channel their only opportunity to escape to the open waters of the Atlantic.

Finally, having enough waiting Molly ordered a warning shot to be fired, the cannonball landing just shy of the Alliance’s starboard side. Finally, the ship pulled anchor, giving chase as the Revenge came about, heading back up the river and towards the channel. John made ready the bowline, looking to catch as much wind as possible when he glanced up, and his blood ran cold through his veins. There, blocking their only escape route was the entirety of the British Royal Navy.

The crew was silent as they watched as at least twenty ships formed a perfect barricade, leaving them nowhere to go but up river and inland. John glanced towards where Molly was standing at the helm, face white as a ghost as she took in their situation. They had been trapped, whatever spies she had been getting information from turning on her and ratting her out to the Commodore. To take on this many ships was suicide, John knew it, the crew knew it and so did Molly.

“Lads, it had been an honor to serve ye. If we fight, we die, cut down like dogs. There is no honor is surrender but I am willin’ to do it so ye all have a chance at livin’.”

“Captain no! We fight!”

Molly shook her head sadly, looking proudly over her men.
“I wont ‘ave it, we all know that there wont be any chance at surviving.”

“Aye, but if we surrender then surely you’ll be hanged.”

“Aye, Meg I will, but some of ye may be pardoned yet. Let the sails and hoist it.”

“But Captain!”

“I said hoist it Giroux!”

And so John and the crew watched with a heavy heart as Claude took down the skull and crossbones and hoisted a white sheet instead, just as the Alliance pulled up next to them.

Royal Navy sailors swung onto the deck by what seemed the hundreds, climbing onto the ship in their pristine blue uniforms. The crew dropped their weapons and held their hands up in surrender as they were surrounded.

The sound of heavy boots had John looking up, watching as a man dressed in his finest walked aboard the Revenge. His navy blue coat was meticulously pressed, golden buttons shining in the morning sun, matching the golden trim around his lapels. His pristine white pants were tucked into whiter socks, which disappeared into polished shoes. An overly large hat, embroidered with golden thread and a large feather adorned his head. He walked with his pointed nose upturned, his facial features pinched as if he tasted something sour.

“Get your bloody hands off of me,” John made to move as Molly was thrown to the ground in front of the Commodore, growling as the pointy end of a bayonet was held to his neck. He watched as Molly stood, chin held high as she eyed the man in front of her with hatred.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the infamous Molly McTavish, she-devil of the seas.”

“Captain Molly McTavish actually.”

The commodore laughed coolly, eying the ship with disgust.

“If you can even call this monstrosity a ship.”

“From what I can recall this monstrosity has sunk at least twenty of your ships, Commodore ,” she spat the last word like it was poison on her tongue and the man’s eyes flashed with anger. Before John could blink the man’s pistol was out and a shot was being fired. Molly cried out in protest as Kyle fell dead at her feet, a pool of blood forming around the exotic man’s head.

“Do not test my patience Mrs. McTavish.”

John closed his eyes and sent up a prayer for the man’s soul, watching as Molly was clamped with irons before the commodore turned to the crew.

“You all will be tried in court before god before any judgment is given. Tie them up.”

John saw his chance, knowing that none of them would be pardoned for being associated with an infamous pirate, and took it.

“Wait! Commodore!”

The man scowled and turned to John, whose hands were held high in surrender.

“Please sir. My name is Jonathan Tavares and I hail from London. I was sailing on the HMS Islander when these pirates overran the ship. They forced me to work for them sir, otherwise they’d kill me.”

“Traitor!”

“Bloody landlubber!”

John winced as his crewmates cursed him as he took a step forward.

“Please sir, I wish nothing more than to return to my family in London.”

The commodore stepped forward eying John up and down with skepticism.

“You speak like a gentleman.”

“I am sir, I did my studies at Cambridge. Please, I have lived a nightmare for the past months, you may check my credentials if you wish.”

The commodore nodded and turned to his crew.

“Shackle them, I want the whole of them in London in a week’s time for trial. You,” he pointed at John “come with me.”

John nodded and tried not to wince as his crew called him every name under the sun. He glanced up to meet Molly’s eyes only to find her hatred filled gaze. He begged her to see his plan, to see that he was doing this for her, but she simply spit at his feet when he passed her. John followed the commodore onboard the Alliance, the grand ship like nothing he’d ever seen. They settled in the Captain’s quarters, a servant offering John tea as he took a seat.

“I must apologize for my appearance Commodore Bettman, pirates are not known for their niceties when it comes to personal appearance.”

“That they do not. I understand your worries but I must tell you that you will be guarded until your credentials clear your name Mr. Tavares.”

“I understand completely sir, I only hope that it is soon so I may travel to see my family.”

“Yes. The ship you traveled on, did she sink?”

“Ay-yes sir. Captain McTavish looted her stores and then set her on fire.”

“Were you the only survivor?”

John steeled himself as he debated, not knowing if Higgins or Sidney had any family in the London area that would recognize them should they be placed in public. Yet he did not want to sully their case either.

“Yes sir. One of her crew had been killed and she took me to fill his place, the rest of the crew were slaughtered in front of my very eyes.”

“I am sorry you had to bare witness to such tragedy Mr. Tavares. There are sights on the high seas that no true gentleman or lady should bare witness too.”

“Yes, well I am anxious to put it all behind me sir.”

“Very well, when we arrive in London I will have my men send word for your family and the departure books. If your story is true you will be free to go.”

John nodded his head in thanks, the dainty teacup felt strange in his calloused hand as he took a sip.

“Thank you Commodore, your assistance is much appreciated.”

The crew was thrown in the Brig, the Revenge towed behind the Alliance as she took for sea, taking a week to sail around to the River Thames, leaving the Revenge at Fort Tilbury before sailing the Alliance up to the Port of London.

~~~


Word had spread that the pirate ship Revenge had been seized and its crew captured and people on the streets cheered as they unloaded the prisoners.

John pulled at the stiff shirt that was entirely too tight around his neck as he watched his friends get shoved into a barred wagon to be brought to the jailer. The Commodore stood beside him, proud smirk on his face as the crowd cheered his name.

“Mr. Tavares, I am pleased to know that you are a man of your word.”

He followed the commodore down the gangplank into the crowd and was brought before two very familiar faces.

“Oh John!”

He tried not to wince as his mother’s bony arms made their way around his body, pulling him into a very uncharacteristic hug. He stepped back and shook his father’s outstretched hand, the man’s cold gaze flicking over him.

“Oh we thought we’d lost you! Oh just look at your face, tanned like leather, oh well that just wont do, we must...” he tuned out his mother as he turned to the commodore expressing his thanks and inquiring as to when the proceedings would take place for the captives.

“Oh I’m thinking to make an event out of it. Perhaps one hanging a day until the grand finale where infamous Molly McTavish gets the noose.”

John felt sick to his stomach at the image his brain conjured up, but managed a nod and a goodbye before being whisked off by his parents. As he walked through the door of his childhood home and sat through tea with his mother and father he had never felt more out of place. The large house felt stifling, the air stale and stagnant as his tight collar threatened to choke him. His mother prattled on and on about trivial matters, most of which he simply tuned out as his mind struggled to come up with a plan to free his friends and take back the Revenge.

~~~


John scratched at his chest, the thick wool coat suffocated him as he made his way through the crowded smelly streets of London. He came upon the courthouse and nodded to the guardsman outside. The first hanging was to take place the following morning and John needed to put the finishing touches on his plans. He had already memorized the blueprints of the cells, shaking his head at the idiocy of the boy that handled the records.

He took notes of the number of guards and their shift times, noting that there would be fewer during the hanging, as they would otherwise be preoccupied with crowd control and the like. He finally was confident in his plan and headed to the tavern to meet with his cousin, knowing that without Sam’s help there would be no plan to execute.

He walked into Stanley’s Tavern and immediately recognized his cousin flirting with the barmaid. When John slid onto the barstool next to him Sam let out a laugh, slapping him on the back with a paw of a hand and shaking his head.

“Ah there he is! Back from his adventurin’ on the high seas! Mr. Johnathan Tavares survived sailing under the infamous Captain McTavish! Can we please get this man a drink!”

The barmaid winked at him and placed a mug of ale in front of him telling him there was no charge. The two men chatted for a bit, Sam filling in John about his latest conquest and the trouble he had gotten into for one too many bar brawls. John suggested they get a table, one in the corner away from nosy ears and came out with it.

There John told Sam everything, from his capture to his time on the ship to his nights with Molly. Sam listened in awe as his formally bookish, boring cousin told him of a life of adventure and love on the high seas. Finally taking a breath John took a sip of his ale before turning to his cousin with all seriousness.

“I need your help.”

Sam gave him a wicked smile that reminded him entirely too much of Molly.

“Where do we start?”

~~~


The hanging wasn’t scheduled until ten but by nine a crowd had already gathered, everyone wanting front row seats to the first execution of an infamous pirate crewmember. To John’s delight more guards were pulled away from the jails to deal with the crowd and that’s when he made his approach. There was only one guard leading to the stairway down to the dungeon and John approached him, dressed in his best.

“Excuse me sir?”

The guard turned to him with a nod as John came within spitting distance, not thinking the English gentleman in front of him could be a threat.

“Could you please tell me-“ he cut himself off as he reached for the guard, taking his head and smashing it against the flagstone wall, knocking him out. John caught the man as he fell, pulling him into a darkened corner out of sight. He quickly stripped the man of his coat and pants, pulling on the uniform and grabbing the rifle from the guard before tying up his hands and binding his mouth.

Plopping the hat onto his head he grabbed the key from the guard’s belt and walked to the large wooden door, unlocking it and trotting down the stairs. There were two guards at the bottom but they paid no mind to him until he got to their level, by then his dagger was already dragging across one man’s throat, before it was plunged into the other guard’s chest.

John felt sick to his stomach as he plucked the key ring from the dead guards and stepped over their bodies. The commotion had prisoners peaking out from behind the bars of their cells and he smiled when he saw Sidney’s head. It took the boy a minute to recognize him in uniform but when he did his eyes lit up.

“John!”

His cry sparked the rest of the crew to yell out his name and he shushed them the best he could, struggling to find which key opened the cell door. Finally the heavy door swung open and Sidney sprung forth, wrapping his arms around the older man’s shoulders.

“I knew you didn’t betray us! Everyone else thought so but not me I just knew-“

“Sidney, help me get everyone else out.”

Together they freed the crew, John receiving pats on the back from all of them as they crowded around. Finally he came to Molly’s cell and opened it, his heart beating through his chest at the woman in front of him. She managed a smile through a split lip and black and blue eyes and struggled to stand on wobbly legs. John reached out and drew her to him, eyes raking over her bruised body with rage.

“I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“What did they do to you Molly?”

“Just a few beatings, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

John sighed and gently pulled her to his body, giving her a quick embrace before pulling his pack over his shoulder and handing out the simple hooded cloaks to the crew.

“Put these on and follow my lead. If anyone gets lost meet at the Docks by the Tower Bridge, there’s a bargeman there named Sam he knows to look for you. We have to be quick.”

John lead them up the stairs and checked to make sure they had a clear path before they headed out, putting a cloak on himself so he would blend in as well. He breathed a sigh of relief when they were clear of the courtyard, the docks were in sight when they heard the cry go up that the prisoners had escaped. They continued to walk normally as not to bring suspicion upon themselves and John nodded at Sam as they loaded onto his barge. Looking to make sure there was no one around, the crew climbed into the various crates and barrels provided for them, John scattering bales of straw and goods over them to make them appear as if they were bursting at the seams. John quickly shucked the guard’s uniform, dumping it over the side, before donning a simple shirt and trousers fit for a merchant and Sam steered the barge away from the docks.

The spent an hour on the river, only being stopped once by British troops who quickly scanned over the barge before letting them on their way, telling them to keep an eye out for the escaped pirates. By the time they docked by Fort Tilbury John’s hands were shaking. He pried open the containers, letting the crew out as they took down the dock and huddled in an alleyway behind the fort, the Revenge clearly visibly at dock. The Alliance had been sailed back from London and sat at a mooring next to the pirate ship.

“So what’s the plan?”

John rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Before he could say that he didn’t actually think they would get this far Sam stood up, cocky grin on his face.

“Leave that to me.”

They watched as he sauntered his way down the dock, conversing with the two guards at the end before pointing off in the distance. When they both looked he kicked one in the rear and sent him into the water with a shout, slipping his pistol out of his holster as he fell. The other guard turned and was met with the hard handle of the pistol right between his eyes. The other guard splashed for a minute before sinking under.

Smiling a grin like the cat that got the canary, Sam motioned them over, the crew quickly running towards the ship and climbing on board. Molly and John were making their way down the dock when a shot rang out and Molly fell next to him, crying out as she clutched her leg. John looked up to see ten British soldiers charging at them, firing off rounds as the crew scrambled to get on the ship and make it ready to sail.

John leaned down to scoop up Molly, wincing as the pylon next to him splintered as a musket ball embedded itself in the wood. He got her down to the ship handing her off to Claude as he pulled her aboard.

“Go, you have to go now! I’ll hold them off!”

“No, John-“

He cut off Molly and turned, firing off a round at the guards running at them.

“You’ll never make it, I can slow them down. Go!”

He went to reload the gun, a shot ringing in his ear had him turning as Sam fired a round from his pistol, taking down another guard. He heard the ropes drop into the water as the ship pulled away from the dock as the two men hid as much of their bodies as they could behind the dock's pylons.

“I’m with you cousin,” John managed a nod at the man before drawing his sword, the footsteps of the remaining soldiers getting closer.

“To the bitter end.”

~~~


Claude struggled to hold down Molly as she fought against him, blood pouring from the wound in her leg as she called out John’s name. They needed everyone else on the deck to make as much sail as possible to make their escape. They had lost sight of the dock but two men against ten of the Royal Army hadn’t looked in their favor. Claude ripped off a piece of his shirt, wrapping it around the wound and saying a prayer of thanks that the musket ball had only grazed her flesh and not embedded itself in her leg.

When he had the wound sealed he looked up and was shocked to see tears in his captain’s eyes. She had calmed down but her eyes were shut as she lay on the deck, the tears cutting tracks through the dirt and grime on her face. Shouts from the crew alerted him that they were being followed and he cursed, shaking her shoulders.

“Captain, please. We need you.”

He could visibly see as she steeled herself, sitting up and wiping the tears away from her face, blue eyes blazing in fury. She struggled to stand hissing when she put weight on her leg but brushing off Claude when he tried to help her walk. She made it up the stairs to the forecastle eyes narrowing as the Alliance took after them.

“All hands make sail! We draw her into open water and then we finish this!”

They made it to the channel and she called out and order to ready the guns and make ready to come about. She was going to personally see when the life drained from Commodore Bettman’s eyes.

She steeled herself as they got within firing range, ready to give out the order to fire when the British flag was lowered from the Alliance and left to the wind, landing somewhere in the blue waters of the Atlantic. The whole crew watched in awe as another flag was raised above the grand ship, a flag that was black and boasted a white skull and crossbones.

Grabbing a looking glass she cried out in relief as she saw Sam on the bow hoisting a line and John at the helm, giant smile on his face as he steered the ship towards her.

The crew saw the same and they let out a cheer that almost deafened her. The Alliance sailed next to the Revenge until they were safe in open water, throwing ropes to bring the ships next to each other as they pulled up and tied the ships off.

The minute the ship stopped John was jumping onto the Revenge, eyes desperately searching for her, his shoulders sagging in relief as he found her standing tall and proud by the helm. He took the stairs two at a time halting in front of her, hesitating for a split second before pulling her to him and sealing his mouth over hers, causing the crew to cry out in joy. He could hear the catcalls and whistles but couldn’t find it in himself to care as he plundered her mouth, bending her back over his arm in a kiss so dramatic it was meant to be on stage. Finally they broke apart and he was smug to see that she was actually blushing.

Looking down at her leg the smug smile fell from his face and she shook her head.

“It’s nothing,” her hands came up to cradle his face and he placed a kiss to her palm. “I thought you were dead.”

He smiled and shook his head.
“Takes more than a few bloody bluecoats to take me down, don’t you know I’m a pirate, we have thick skin.”

Molly laughed and pulled his lips back to hers until a very loud throat clearing could be heard. The pulled apart to see Sam standing next to them, a smug smile on his face while he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, if this is what you’ve been up to no wonder you didn’t want to go back to dreary old London.”
He let out a laugh and pulled his cousin into a hug, thanking him for his help.

“Well, Sam, now that we have another ship we are going to need to expand our crew. Any chance you’d be lookin’ for a life of adventure on the high seas?”

“Well Mrs. McTavish, as it were I just quit my previous job and am in need of a new one.”

Molly chuckled and extended her hand, shaking Sam’s firmly before turning to the crew.

“Alright you scallywags I want half of ye’ on the Alliance and ready to make sail in five!”

“Aye Captain!”

“Where is it we are makin’ sail to Capt’n?”
Molly smirked as she looked at Sidney.

“I hear the Caribbean is quite nice this time of year. Tortuga in particular.”

The crew cheered, shouts of Tortuga ringing out as they divided onto each ship. John smiled before bringing Molly’s hand to his lips.

“There is something I forgot, a surprise if you will.”

A blonde eyebrow cocked in amusement as he gestured to the Alliance.

“You bring me one of the few ships that can keep up with mine and yet there is another surprise?”

“Aye, its on board.”

She glared at him when he tried to help her down the stairs, limping after him as he boarded the Alliance and led her downstairs to the brig. She laughed out in glee and flung herself into John’s arms, her lips attacking his in joy before breaking away, smile planted firmly on her face.

For there, locked away in the brig of her newest ship, was none other than Commodore Bettman himself. Dirtied and bloodied in his dress blues. She turned to John and he couldn’t help but smile along with her.

“But, how?”

“He fights like a gentleman, truly spectacular technique, but as it turns out I fight like a pirate.”

Molly grinned at him and walked over to the cell, leaning over the Commodore and giving him a wicked smile.

“Oh do I have plans for you."

John chuckled as the Commodore looked rightly frightened before Molly pulled him back up the stairs smiling at Claude as he took the helm to the Alliance before dragging John back onto the Revenge. They stood side by side as the ships parted, the Alliance falling into line behind the revenge as they looked out at the open ocean.

“Full sail ahead! Steady as she goes!”

The bow pointed into the setting sun was a sight for sore eyes as the sky was painted in red and orange, set ablaze as if it were on fire. John placed his arms around Molly’s waist, placing a tender kiss onto her neck as they watched the sun set together, John whispering into her ear.

“Red sky at night…”

Molly sucked in a breath and smiled.

“I think, John, that it is going to be a very beautiful morning.”

FIN

Notes

Okay so Molly McTavish is based largely off of Jeanne de Clisson, who was a kick ass lady pirate from the 1300's. Go read about her cause she kicks serious ass.