"Port Ambrosia"

Henry parted the shirt, exposing her chest ... and smiling. The skin she let her men see -- hands, arms, neck, face -- were well tanned by her days under the sun, but here, between neck and waist, she was fair skinned; firm, young breasts were adorned as he'd expected by pink nipples, the perfect accessory to her fiery head of hair.

Henry leaned down, taking a nipple gently in his lips, pressing his tongue against it. It hardened noticeably at his touch, making him smile as he peeked up to her eyes to see her reaction to the sensation. He slid a hand under her, to the small of her back, then up higher. Gently, as he shifted his weight to his knees, he raised her from the bed and used his free hand to begin removing her shirt.

He was looking her directly in her mesmerizing eyes as he whispered, "This will be a night that will change Port Ambrosia forever..."

As he leaned in to meet her lips with his, his mind was filled with ambitious thoughts of how he and this Pirate Queen were going to come to rule the archipelago as no one had in two hundred years ... of how, together, as lovers and cohorts, they would first bring peace and justice to his -- their -- islands ... and of how their good fortunes would grow to include fleets and armies that would compete with the Spanish, the French, even the British throughout the whole of the Ocean.

As he pressed their bared chests together, it would never have even occurred to him that Leah didn't feel the same as he did. He was overwhelmed with passion for this woman ... with passion for what she was ... with passion for what they could do together. It would never have occurred to him that this night might be nothing more than a way to tune herself up ... or that she might be using him to gain fortune and power for herself ... or that she might at any moment snatch up the knife that he's seen her hide and plant it in his back.

No ... this night was going to go exactly as he fantasized it. He was sure of it...
 
Leah inhaled with a hiss through her teeth, her left hand sliding up along his back within the shirt, fingers caressing his neck, slipping into his hair. He was so -careful-, and this both endeared him to her and made her think to take control.

Lifted from the bed partially, her exploring fingers still entangled in his hair, tensed on his back-she studied him after he made the odd statement, wondering just what, exactly, he meant by it. Nothing was changed from before-except, inexplicably, she was bedding him.

But when he had spoken at the table, he had talked of partnership. Not just a deal. What -were- his needs beyond Ambrosia's protection? He lusted for her-but even that seemed off the mark, somehow.

All things in time-right now, she wanted to please him, protect him-and tomorrow, exact her revenge on Jack -and- scrub Henry's islands clean of any pirates save her own. So instead, Leah kissed him hard when he leaned in, protecting him, in a way, from himself. They could talk tomorrow. He would surely come to his senses then, having fulfilled his desire of her.

"Come now Henry-" She murmured as he pulled her close, her still clothed, long legs on either side of him, her soft breasts pressed into his taut chest. "I'm not -that- good in bed." Another joke, another tease-before she pulled insistently on his shirt to slide it down his arms and off of him, kissing his jawline, his throat, shoulder-pressing as she did so to get -him- to lie back on the bed, feathering those soft kisses down his chest, the pirate's knees pressed into the bed, straddling him.

She was beautiful and uninhibited, unashamed of her body-a fierce pride and confidence that only enhanced her raw appeal.
 
Henry was probably as confused about her response to his comment as she'd been to his comment itself. Then, realizing, he laughed aloud. It had been a rather bold statement to make as you were preparing to bed a woman for the first time, assuming it was what one meant.

"I'll risk it," he whispered as Leah drove him back to the mattress. As she kissed him, were soft lips and playful tongue teasing at times, tickling at others, Henry reached to his lower abdomen and began loosening his clothing. He raised his hips and slid his trousers down to mid thigh. He was anxious to have her and wasn't too proud to strip his own body to make things happen.
 
Leah shifted to her knees, bypassing the most yearning of him to snag those trousers, draw them the rest of the way down his legs-and allowed a slow perusal of him, her green flecked eyes hitting his with a look of wicked approval.

"...for a pampered politician..." She murmured, loosening the ties to her own bottoms, the cloth gaping enough to expose the rest of her flat stomach, a hint of red-and what appeared to be a nasty scar starting on her right hip, across the front of her thigh and curving down around her left thigh as if, when she had recieved it, her legs had been together. The sort of mark a whip makes, ugly and angry and somehow making her more beautiful, contrasting with the flawlessness of the rest of her. More of the terrible scar was exposed to him as she crawled forward, shedding the pants-her hands coming to rest on the muscles of his thighs as she slowly, teasingly moved forward once more, her breath on the head of him.

Surely she wouldn't.

But she -did-. Deft, dexterous fingers spiraled carefully down the length of him as she slipped her lips over his head, taking him into her hot mouth, enclosing him in wet heat and sucking, pulling back with a swirl of her tongue only to descend again. She focused on just that part of him, working to drive him to the edge -just- because she could. She wanted him to want her. She wanted to show him just how dangerous it was, to want a woman who was no noble, no lady, not even a tad bit shy.

A woman who knew exactly what she wanted and when she wanted it. It thrilled her, in a way. To think she'd be a new experience, something vastly different and more exciting than anything he had known before. But that might be giving a little too much credit. After all-she only half knew what the hell she was doing.

After several agonizing moments of torture Leah -stopped-, crawling further along his body, kicking her pants off her ankles, those long legs revealed, toned and lengthy and prettily fair skinned-save that scar. He would feel the heat of her sex, even as she denied him just a moment more, kissed him hard, her nails trailing down his chest-before she pushed herself up and lowered halfway onto him with a moan of arousal of her own, slick, suspiciously tight muscles spasming at the intrusion, slowly relaxing as she sank down lower, bit by agonizing bit.

It was an erotic sight, her long red hair tumbled over her shoulders and breasts, the uplifted curve and weight of them, the narrow, bandaged waist, the flare of her curved, pale hips.

Her face had colored, her hands on his chest as she took a moment to pant, body adjusting, eyes finding his, almost apologetic. "B-been a while." She confessed.
 
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Henry drew a sudden, deep breath, as Leah took his penis into her mouth. It wasn't, of course, his first experience with oral sex; the whores in every Red Light district from London to Caracas made their money with their mouths when Mother Nature nature and that time of the month deemed other holes inaccessible.

But this ... this blow job, as one recent French prostitute had called it ... this was unexpected and as such, flooded his body with a chill that caused his entire body to erupt in goose bumps. Henry had never known an amateur to pleasure a man in this way; he'd certainly never had his cock taken in by one of his courtiers or one of the daughters -- or even wives -- of one of his diplomatically connected men. There was something else about the way Leah took him between her lips, too. It was ... it was ... yes, it was her desire simply to please him for pleasure sake, and not for the coins the whore would receive at the end of the night or the taboo memory that came from a courtier's inappropriate relationship with him.

Taboo... As he thought the word, it made Henry's pleasure rise even quicker. The Governor of Port Ambrosia's penis was deep inside a pirate captain's mouth. It was a man's world and Henry would receive pats on the back for bedding just about any woman save the King's daughter herself, but this...? Well, Henry was pretty sure his Majesty -- well known for his dalliances at court -- would look on this with a raised eyebrow.

Henry didn't care, at least not at this moment. The pleasure was welling up inside him quickly, and all he cared about at this moment was having his body erupt in euphoria that surely was only moments away. And then, as suddenly as Leah had sent Henry's mind into a whirl, she let it escape by pulling her face -- and that incredible, warm, wet, magical mouth -- away from his groin.

Henry, whose eyes had closed and head had fallen back, looked to her quickly with an expression that probably screamed, Oh no! Stick with me! But his smile remained as he saw her removing the clothes from her lower body, the ones that, once absent, would allow him to make love to her and enjoy the orgasm to go with his already, eagerly twitching dick.

As she removed her trousers, his eyes fell to the scar that passed across both thighs. He understood what it was immediately; several of the blacks now living relatively comfortable lives on the Stanton's rural estate had been alive prior to England's abolishing of slavery, and many of them carried scars from their time with the Masters Henry's grandfather had rescued them from.

Henry had never seen lash marks on a white person before, let alone a woman. His stomach turned over, though he wasn't sure whether it was simply from the understanding of the pain Leah must have suffered or from the anger he now had for whomever had done this to her.

It took a moment to pull his eyes -- and his mind -- from the subject of her scars, and when his gaze was repositioned, it was to her otherwise beauty form. She was so sexy; a young firm body, large and pert nipples, that mass of red spilling down upon her body, setting her apart from any woman he'd ever bedded before.

And then ... Henry let out a long sigh as he felt his dick slip into her very tight pussy. Her body resisted him at first, unready for intrusion; but soon, his full length slid slowly, neatly into her until their groins were pressed hard against one another.

"B-been a while," Leah said, her tone apologetic as if her pussy grasping him as hard as his own had sometimes did was a bad thing.

Once he was fully inside of her, he grasped her hips and began working his hips, moving just a bit in and out of her, then a lot, then almost his entire length. He was beginning to groan and he accepted her apology with a whispered, bold faced lie, "Me, too, Leah."

It may have only been a few days earlier that he'd been satisfying his lust for Leah with a common barmaid, but it was the actual feel of Leah's body enveloping him that made him quickly explode with a deep and satisfying grunt of pleasure. His cock jerked within her hard, unloading repeatedly; his hands grasped her hips tightly, pulling her body hard down upon his, his animal nature wanting to ensure his seed was deposited deep within her garden.

He was lost in his euphoria, his mind spinning with ecstasy that he'd been dreaming of every night for more than five weeks...
 
The hands on his chest curled into fists as he rocked into her, her head tipping back to expose the column of her throat with a gasp. He was bigger than she would have thought, stretching her- and Leah began meeting his thrusts in rhythm, lips parted in heated, quick breaths.

She tightened her muscles, relaxing and tightening, relaxing and tightening-gripping him slightly tighter to bring him to orgasm faster, to drive him over the edge-a sharp inhale when he exploded, pulling her down hard into him, his hot seed coating her inner walls, leaving Leah to slump slightly forward on her hands, panting, studying his euphoric expression.

If and when he refocused, she had that slight, wicked curve to her lips. She had kept control intentionally, looking to bring him to pleasure-for reasons even she was unsure about.
 
He was in a state of euphoria for ... for a relatively long time. He couldn't remember the last time his dick had jumped inside a woman as many times as it just had within the pirate captain. When the high began to wane, he only then realized just how obvious his orgasm must have been to her: his head was back in the pillow, his mouth was wide open with moans and deep breaths, his hands -- which had been clutching her to him -- had slumped to the bed beside his hips, and his entire body seemed to be thumping with the pounding of his heart.

When he finally looked up and found Leah studying his response to her actions, he couldn't help but burst out in embarrassed laughter. Henry reached up with both hands, clasping her face, and pulled her down; he met her mouth in a passionate kiss, open space between their lips to allow him to continue his struggle for post-ecstasy air.

"My god, Leah..." Henry finally managed, "you are ... an unbelievable ... lover."

He used the word lover without considering how she would take the use of the word. He typically only used that word with his courtiers, the ones he planned on fucking long term until he either tired of them or got what he wanted from their fathers and then had no need to keep either of the family members about.

With Leah, though, it simply felt ... right. Although it wasn't a word he was familiar with, Henry was infatuated with the pirate. She was everything he'd never had in a bed partner ... and everything he never knew he wanted in a bed partner.

"When I get ... my breath," he said, looking into her eyes, "I would like ... to return the favor ... to you ... if you wish."
 
A kiss Leah finished with another nip to his lip, a raised eyebrow at the word-and a satisfied glint at the sentiment. "Careful, Governor." She murmured, fingers gently sweeping his hair aside, threading into it idly, her expression having softened into thoughtfulness. "You'll trade away more than you can afford."

She was worried for him.

God dammit.

She rose up, off of him to lay on her uninjured side, one of those long legs over his, her hand on his rising and falling chest, ear to his thudding heart. He mentioned returning the favor, and Leah made an amused noise. "You sure you can?" She teased in an almost...cruel fashion, but her fingers smoothed his chest and meant no harm, no actual insult.

"...do you know, my father is a priest?" She said after a moment's pause, the information rather surprising-and amusing, given her occupation, what she had just done to him.
 
"Careful, Governor," Leah warned playfully. "You'll trade away more than you can afford."

She was right, of course. At this moment, Henry would have invaded England itself for Leah. He hadn't enjoyed and act of sex and its significance as much in ... well, forever. And this self-admission was coming from a man who had both deflowered the daughter of a rival nobleman, preventing the young woman from potentially becoming the next queen of Norway and bedded the wife of the King's nephew, a secret he'd held in confident in return for the loan of the Lexington, now dockside in Port Ambrosia.

Yes, Henry had a few proud sexual conquests under his belt. But bedding a pirate ... a beautiful pirate ... a beautiful pirate who satisfied him so thoroughly ... this made the others seem like just a fuck in the dark with a common whore.

"You sure you can?" Leah teased him, cuddling up next to him and playing her fingers among the hair on his chest.

He had little doubt that he could bring Leah, too, to sexual euphoria. Henry had a knack for pleasing women he cared to please. It was about dedication ... and pride. Just as many of the women in his past had felt pride in making m'Lord feel good, he had felt pride in making them scream out in ecstasy. Sex for Henry was far more than simply his own pleasure. He was all about reciprocation for a woman he cared about. Or simply wanted to impress. Or had a future use for.

So ... why Leah? The question that came quietly to him, more specifically, would have been asked, Why do you want to please Leah? She pleased you. Isn't that enough? The answer, of course, was no. He wanted her orgasmic screams to wake the guards a floor down! But why? It was too early in their relationship to truly say he cared for her. Did he want to impress her...? Maybe; she had done things to him with her mouth that no other non-professional had ever done, and it might be nice to repeat it for her simply to be able to show he could.

Or ... did he simply have a future use for her...? And, of course, that was the answer. Henry needed Leah to defeat the zone's pirates. Henry needed Leah to help him secure control over this little corner of the ocean. Henry needed Leah to show him the little ins and outs of Port Ambrosia's neighboring islands and even the ports and they secrets held by them on the mainland, which was just within pillaging reach of a well maintained and well-crewed ship.

But ... was it more than that...? Did Henry need ... Leah? This ... infatuation. Was this about her herself? Or was she just another sex partner from whom to get what he wanted before discarding her? Henry's mind -- returned fully to him from his long moment of euphoria -- was racing with thoughts, spurred on by her warning of being careful.

What can you afford to trade away...? Depends... What am I getting in return?

Henry had never truly been in love. He'd never truly been willing to risk his life to save that of a woman, or do any of those other crazy things that his mother had often mused about, the things a man would do for the woman he loved. So ... lust...? infatuation...? love...? How the hell would I know anyway?

"Do you know, my father is a priest?"

Before he knew he'd done it, Henry burst out with a short laugh of surprise. "A priest? How the hell does the daughter of a priest become a pirate captain?" He laughed a bit more, pulling her a bit closer to him playfully.

After a moment, he slipped his arm out from under her neck and slipped off the bed, turning on his knees to face her. He reached out and took hold of her legs just behind the knees, carefully pulling her toward him, watching for any sign that his action was hurting her in anyway. He wore a sly smile as he slipped his arms in between legs, up under her thighs, until his hands were under her buttocks, gripping them near the small of her back.

He looked down to her treasure chest, smiling. A woman's pussy was a marvelous thing. Hers was exactly as he'd expected from a redhead; fair skin about it, bright pink folds of skin ... glistening from their earlier activity with the fluid that had made his intrusion into her possible.

Henry looked up to her and, after some delay, answered, "Yes ... I am sure that I can."

He leaned in, kissing her wet spot, then again, then again a bit fuller ... then his tongue extended, toying with the swollen button of pleasure poking out from between her folds ... then ... eying her reaction for what truly pleasured her ... Henry set about to make the pirate captain want his presence in the future as much as he wanted hers.
 
Leah did too, that pretty belle laughter of the truly amused. "Straying catholics sow rotten seeds-what can I say?"

Leah's life surely was an interesting story-bastard child of a priest with no prospects to a dangerous, capable pirate in charge of her own ship and with the world, at least, the sea faring one-at her feet.

Leah watched him shift and get up, a curious expression. Perhaps he was done, easily sated by her boldness-or, she thought with a slight puzzled look as he caught her behind the knees, dragged her towards him. Leah debated, watching him study her naked form. She had seen countless women quake and tumble before the will of a man, and she had always been determined to -never- be one of them. Infatuation and even lust was a fool's game. A form of control Leah refused to allow to anyone but herself.

She had wanted this man, partially just to thrill him, just to exert her will over him. She had no habit of seduction.

As much as it was about retaining power, it was also a small level of stubborn pride. She needed -nothing- from men. She was stronger than a male pirate because she didn't think with a dick. Why trade that away for subservience elsewhere?

But. Here she was, and here he was, and despite getting what Leah had long suspected he had wanted-he still was intent to please her, a foggy notion Leah had never before been interested in. His sly smile seemed slightly dangerous, all of a sudden. Perhaps he was not as vulnerable as she had figured him to be.

"What do you mean to-!" The words ended with a gasp when he -dared-, her hands shooting down to his head, almost as if to push him away, her fingers caught in his hair. "Henry, noooo-" The moaned dissent was very un-Leah like, the fiery red head unused to such direct and bold stimulation as her back arched, a tinge of pain in her side that only spiraled along her spine to rake across her nerves.

He concentrated on that bundle of nerves, rendering the captain relatively senseless as he thrust one, then two fingers into her, brushing against a second nerve hot spot by curling them slightly inwards. His bold Pirate Queen was -not- well versed in recieving pleasure, it seemed-hands fisted in the sheets, face reddened, panting in strangled breaths-Leah orgasmed around his fingers, those inner muscles spasming as her mind exploded.

Leaving her panting in his bed, lust darkened eyes widening slightly as she came, slowly, off her high. "F-favor repaid, Governor-" She mumbled absently, teasingly- curling up(with a slight grimace) to sit, to touch him. "I've never-" Er. Perhaps she would not disclose that.
 
"I've never-"

Leah stopped suddenly, not finishing her sentence. She didn't have to, of course; Henry knew what she had been about to say. It didn't surprise him, actually. Most men didn't put their lover's pleasure before their own ... or even after their own, unless they needed something they could only get from that woman. If he'd taken a moment to count heads -- or pussies -- Henry would have realized that he'd probably only intentionally driven half -- maybe less -- of his lovers to orgasm over the years. Oh, there had been a few that he'd needed to send into climax, to make them want him again in the future or be impressed enough to give him something in gratitude. But, honestly, most of them had simply been a warm wet place to put his big, hard dick.

And if a man's lack of reciprocation wasn't enough, Leah was young, too. How many lovers could she possibly have had in her life? She was a pirate ... a pirate captain ... a female pirate captain. She'd grown up in a man's world, but not as a woman in that world but as an equal -- no, a superior. Did she fuck every man she could...? Or had she maintained her distance by keeping a sharp cutlass pointing toward the groins of any man stupid enough to get hard for her.

Could she have allowed a man to have this kind of effect on her...? This kind of control? And, it was control, in most cases. The few women who Henry had sent into previously unrecognized euphoria would have done anything to remain his lover, even after they realized that he'd only been using them for ulterior purposes.

And what about Leah...? What would her reaction, her response be to Henry sending her to heights she'd never been to before...? As he crawled up onto the bed, pushing her thighs apart and lowering himself almost but not quite to her wounded body, he smiled with pride at the thought of being the first man to drive this pirate to ecstasy. He pressed his lips to her as he adjusted his lower body, directing the head of his dick until it was again at the door to her pleasure palace.

"The night is still young, my captain," he whispered, kissing her softly, then lowering his mouth to her neck and biting her gently. "The night is still young."
 
Leah was a fiery lover, an active participant who gave as much-if not more- than she got. The flames she fanned were pleasurable, hot-and consuming, but ever was the feeling she held something of herself back, even as she thrust her hips back into him, wrapped her long legs around him to add a bit of roughness to his gentle love making, her lips on his skin, her nails trailing along his toned muscles.

That her stitches did not tear was a miracle all it's own, and Henry would find himself thrilled in all ways he had never imagined, utterly, deliciously sated by the bold pirate captain.
.......
It had proved a little too much for the still recovering Leah-she would sleep, her lithe, toned form wrapped in the silken sheet, outlining her curved bottom, the curve of her breast-her bare shoulders and neckline exposed, soft-enticingly beautiful. That dark red, silky hair spilled across the sheets, a splash of color to the creme of them, the paleness of her skin.

Her full lips slightly parted, the fringe of her eyelashes against her cheek-she looked surprisingly innocent, asleep. Henry need not worry about the dagger she had slipped beneath his pillow-she was on the opposite side of it, his body between her and the weapon-and it seemed more a habit, a precaution for sleep than intent to harm him anyway.

Curled to him, her skin flushed and warm-it would be easy to drift off with her...

And should he, he'd wake to find Leah mostly dressed, her sword on her hip-fastening the last few of the stolen shirt's buttons as she frowned over the maps-now with much, much more detail than before, measurements and distances recorded as accurately as she knew them.

It was time to show Jack just how foolish his betrayal had been.
 
Henry awoke to the sight of Leah, naked, standing a few feet away, gathering and donning her clothes. From behind, she was perfect; flawless. her narrow waist, those round hips and buttocks, those firm legs. He remembered the ugly scar across the unseen front of her thighs and, for a moment, felt sorry for her. Why...? he asked himself. Why sympathy...? Every bit of her that others typically saw of her -- that angelic face, that shapely figure, those incredible eyes, and that fiery head of hair -- was perfect. And since he was the only person who would ever see those scars, they didn't matter.

WILL you be the only one...? he questioned himself. A night of passion does not make a marriage, he thought, using the last word in more of a poetic context than a literal one.

And, of course, she will get to show me a NEW scar ... the next time we are like this. He was, of course, assuming there would be a next time. Perhaps there wouldn't be; perhaps he'd fulfilled her needs and she'd be fine without a man for ... for some time. It depressed him to even consider that he wouldn't know the pleasure of her body next to his again. What was there their relationship going to be...? There were so many possibilities ... and, he knew, most of the options did not include them fucking again, let alone again and again.

She turned toward him, and he quickly closed his eyes and feigned sleep. He waited until she'd moved back to the map table and, for quite a while, only peeked at her occasionally. Eventually, his lips twitched with a smile; he'd suddenly realized the direction of their relationship.

He stirred, feigning his sudden consciousness, then stood -- still nude -- and crossed the room to stand behind her; he looked over her shoulder at the maps as he wrapped his arms around her waist, careful not to contact her wound. He kissed her shoulder, then looked to the maps. Her knowledge of the area around the Ambrosia Archipelago was incredible. Henry wasn't sure why it surprised him; her success depended upon her knowing the land and sea better than the ships she was chasing down and ships that were chasing her down.

"While you slept last night," he told her softly, "I left for a bit ... had a talk with the Lieutenant. His men are ready ... if you are."

He pulled back and turned her to face him, pulling her into his naked body; his penis twitched a bit, growing slightly but only subconsciously, for his conscious mind was fully on his words.

"Brian is downstairs," he said, watching her reaction. He'd told the First Mate that Leah was upstairs under the care of a doctor, a nurse, and a nun, to ensure -- although falsely -- that the pirate believed his captain was slept alone and not with him. He didn't tell her this; he knew she was assume he'd be gentlemanly in his explanation. He continued, "Your men are ready, too ... ready and eager. But, Brian won't take the Crosswind into a fight without either you at the helm ... or your direction, in person, that he is to do so."

Henry lifted a hand and, with his fingertips, lifted her face at the chin to look into her eyes. With obvious concern, he asked, "Are you up to this, Leah?"
 
Leah kept her eyes on the map, but his naked body against her clothed one was an erotic, distracting thing-the kiss to her shoulder surprisingly affectionate. If she weren't careful...business Leah, business.

"I can't imagine he's keen on accepting my help." Leah muttered, her arms at her sides as he pulled her close-thinking that if she did not embrace him, perhaps she could focus better on just what she intended to do about the whole affair, send the message that...what?

Leah lifted a brow when he mentioned her first mate-and since he said nothing of any fight, she assumed he hadn't mentioned...well.

Fitting. He was a man of class, after all.

It was the concern that got to her. She stared at him a moment, her graceful fingers lifting to his hand, his fingertips-a soft press of her lips to them. "I had better be." She breathed, those green flecked eyes distracted, troubled-but determined.

Her mouth curved into that confident, slightly wicked grin as her gaze hit his again. "I'm the best damned blade my crew's got." And a searing kiss-for luck-to his mouth before she turned to the map, directed his attention to the cove and North port. "I imagine Jack's luring me in, or at least, my crew. He lost his ship. He'll be wanting mine, if he hasn't fled like the yellow dog that he is. I'd bet half my treasure on it." She tapped the cove, frowning slightly-the tall woman leaning on her arms, slightly bent over the table.

If she hadn't caught wind of this plot...

"Perhaps I should procure you a ship or two..." She murmured, her eyes shifting to him, then the bed. There was a hint of color rising in her cheeks. "Henry...I want to make it clear." She nodded towards the rumpled sheets. "Our little arrangement, our business dealings are a separate matter from...our hobbies."

She straightened from the table, that slight lift of her jaw, independent. If he thought she could be swayed by lust, he was wrong. And, in a way-she wanted to protect him. Even from her. She didn't want to own him that way. A powerful ally was better than one at her feet. "Lest one or both of us become ruined." She extended her right hand slightly, to shake. "And for your sake-I wouldn't mention it to Brian. Deal?"

As for those ships-she'd be sure they were staffed with men loyal to -her-, that way he couldn't one day turn them against her, least not easily.

As for the bedroom...if a man tired of a noble or common woman, he could dismiss her. If a man tired of a pirate-well, hell, Leah imagined she'd be hanged, if that's all she became to him. She wanted equal footing.

She wanted him to understand she wasn't any less a business partner just because she had shared his bed.
 
"I imagine Jack's luring me in," Leah explained, her attention returning to the map before her, "or at least, my crew. He lost his ship. He'll be wanting mine, if he hasn't fled like the yellow dog that he is. I'd bet half my treasure on it."

As if the look of her in her sailing clothes and the growling words about Jack hadn't been enough, the mention of treasure reminded Henry that he'd spent the night with a pirate ... an outlaw in the eyes of the Crown. Even before he could consider whether he was making a mistake spending time with this woman -- falling in lust, or love...? -- she only made the answer tougher by adding, "Perhaps I should procure you a ship or two..."

Procure...? That, of course, meant steal! Henry was getting himself in deep ... and yet ... at this moment, he didn't care. He wanted more than the Crown would allow him to have, based on his standing in Society. His title of Governor gave him absolute authority over Port Ambrosia, of course, so long as he was working in the interest of the Crown; but his English titles meant nearly nothing back home in Britain anymore. And while he'd spent the majority of his life salivating over the archipelago, he had always known that he would want more.

He looked down to Leah and knew that not only would she be his best bet for getting more, but that -- in the end -- that more had to include her as well. How far are you willing to go to get More...? How much are you willing to give her to get that More...?

He was almost afraid to answer the question, even if it was only to himself in his own mind. Lust had been the downfall of a number of men, mighty and lowly both.

As if she knew what was going through his head, she glanced toward the bed and said, "Henry...I want to make it clear. Our little arrangement, our business dealings are a separate matter from...our hobbies."

Henry's slight smile faded. He knew what that meant: business before pleasure ... if pleasure at all.

"Lest one or both of us become ruined," she added. Leah caused Henry's heart to roll over with dread as she extended her hand to shake his; a gesture between business partners, not lovers. "And for your sake-I wouldn't mention it to Brian. Deal?"

Henry hesitated, disappointed. He had put himself out there too far, too quickly, and his fantasy was crashing down around him. Did you really think you were going to raid ships and sack enemy ports by day and fuck this beautiful pirate by night ... every day, every night?

Henry took her hand softly into his and -- still unsure of what his feelings were -- did the logical thing and agreed with her, saying, "Of course, Captain."

He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it, not unlike he might with any courtier or noble woman upon greeting her. He gave her his warmest smile, even if his heart was beating with fear that this had been their one and only night of pleasure, then released her hand and took a half step back.

"I will go downstairs and tell Brian that the doctor has released you from his care," he said, giving her a polite, playful bow. He smiled broadly, saying as he turned to retrieve and don his robe, "It's time you and your pirates showed this ... Jack, what results from presenting a threat to Port Ambrosia."

He stopped at the door, opening it and calling loudly for the Lieutenant. Heavy boot falls sounded across the stone floor, and when the officer appeared at the door -- his eyes dropping for a moment to the casual dress of his superior -- Henry announced, "Captain Leah will be returning to her ship, Lieutenant. Have the Sergeant and his men escort her to the docks. Then, have the harbor master put every man to work completing the repairs to the Crosswind and the Lexington. I want both ships stocked and seaworthy by high tide tomorrow, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," the Lieutenant answered with a crisp salute.

As the officer departed, Henry returned to stand near Leah, his gaze dropping to her body for just a moment before again rising to meet her eyes. He smiled again, then headed for his closet, saying, "Captain ... it's been a pleasure I hope we repeat, but for now--" He spun at the closet door, dropping his robe to again show his naked body -- and his slightly swollen sword -- before again bowing playfully and saying, "let's go find us a pirate."

He stepped into the walk in and began dressing.
 
When he came out, perhaps buttoning shirt or waist coat-Leah was rolling one of the maps up, finished with it as she turned to leave the bedroom, pausing a moment to study him with an unreadable expression.

Perhaps...curiosity?

"...most nobles would have left me to bleed out in the sand, you know." She said softly, thoughtfully-before handing him the map-and with that, Leah's green flecked eyes were on the path ahead, the woman all pirate again.

-------------------------------------------------
Henry's scouts would report a listing ship of his near the cove Leah had mapped out. There was a pathway out of the caves and unto land his men were to guard-but also use to pincer the enemy pirates within. Leah's men would be wearing red bandana's on their right arms so his soldiers could tell the difference, should they come in that far.

The Crosswind sailed as near the cove as it could ("Animals." Leah remarked with disgust at the dangling, hanged bodies of British guards from the sloop) get before the cutters were lowered, pirates rowing themselves into the caverns and spilling out into the shallow water, sloshing noisily into the dark. They were still, struggling to light torches and looking uncertainly about them in the gloom, a single man stepping onto the stone outcropping-and all at once the place was filled with ear splitting cracks of gunfire, the scent (and rising fog) of it darkening the place further as confused men scrabbled for cover, for their own arms, for the torches dropped and distinguished.

It would have been disastrous disorganization-had a woman's voice not boomed over the ruckus, the tall lithe figure revealed in blasts of gunfire, her sword drawn, her gestures angry and powerful, seemingly fearless, impervious to bullets. "DO I LEAD A BUNCH OF MILK MAIDS?! HAVE AT THEM, YOU COWARDS! THESE CAVERNS ARE OURS!"

And with the call to arms Leah turned to lead the charge, her enraged, brave energy spreading through her pirates like wildfire. The sound of a hundred swords being drawn as men bellowed war cries could be heard for miles, it seemed-and the battle was on.

Leah's pirates hacked and slashed their way deeper into the caverns, their fiery leader in the thick of the fray, her swordsmanship unparalleled-she wielded her rapier in her right hand, displaying all the skill and talent of a King's champion fencer-while in her left she flashed a curved sabre, the sword glinting as she slashed and rudely bashed past men twice her weight. The two fighting styles-the fencers dance like footwork, the flourishes and jabs combined with the brutish brawler's tactics-were an interesting sight and a -confusing- one. You couldn't predict Leah's movements. She'd kill you while you tried.

And while she fought bravely-her muscles ached with fatigue, her fierceness and fire rapidly draining her still recovering strength. Brian joined her at some point, casting her a worried glance Leah strove to ignore.

"Captain!!!" The panicked voice was hardly heard over the din, Leah's eyes flitting off towards her left where one of -her- men was being dragged bodily around a tight corner, his flailing limbs disappearing into the dark cavern. Without thinking she ducked under an opposing pirate's sword and sprinted in that direction, leaping a small gap and rounding the corner, panting down the narrow passage before turning to enter a wider one-JUST in time for a gun to go off, damn near taking her head off with it.

Stepping quickly back and into the protection of the passage, Leah pressed her shoulder into the wall, catching her breath, worrying over what to do next. The muffled sounds of struggle of her man made her grit her teeth. "Come on out Leah...or I break your mate's arm."

Shit. Brian pounded into the narrow passage some distance behind, and Leah violently waved him off. Slow the fuck down, quiet! She mouthed, peeling out of the long tan coat she'd worn, thrusting it out on the sabre-BANG!

The second blast, followed by a curse, almost made her smile-were it not for the horrific cracking noise that came next, a man's scream. "I can do a leg next-" Jack growled.

Leah stepped around the corner, her eyes narrowing on the sight of her one time friend-and now bitter enemy. He was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and bright blue eyes, his beard short and surprisingly well kept for a pirate-a cruel glint as he held his sword to the throat of one of her pirates, Jim or James-she could never remember-his left arm hanging limply at his side, broken-he looked in terrible pain, and for a very real moment-she felt sorry for him.

Her eyes lifted from his tortured face to Jack, narrowing. He still brandished his spent pistol. "Why'd you do it?" She asked, pacing a semi circle around him, her booted steps echoing off the walls. "Greed? What'd that stupid prick offer you?"

"He's dead now, so it don't rightly matter-" Jack spat, glaring at her. "I offered you an alliance. You said no."

"A place in your -bed- is hardly an alliance, Jack." Leah hissed, taking a sudden step forward-backing off when his blade drew a sliver of blood.

"You wrecked my ship-" Jack growled. "You killed my men. Drop your swords Leah. I'll kill him."

She complied reluctantly-but fuck it. Jack was dead either way.

"They choose the wrong god damned side. Mutiny woulda been better than facing us-you know how this ends Jack-" Leah's voice lowered into a dangerous murmur as the opposing captain turned to follow her-Brian peeking out from his hiding place before creeping up...

"And it ends bad."

Brian lunged, Jack's sword coming up-her captured pirate diving out of the way as Leah stepped in, the dagger from the small of her back drawn and ready to stab-as Brian wrestled the sword away from him.

She thrust the blade into his heart as he released the sword and socked her hard in her injured side, stitches splitting open as she hit the floor-Brian stomping on the dying pirate's wind pipe.

And in that instant of mega violence, it was all over.

Except...

Fingers to her torn and throbbing side, Leah cursed. She did not need this shit right now. What had Henry said? Infection? Brian reached down to help her up, his brow furrowing.
"Captain?" He sounded all too worried, and the other pirate was watching too-Leah couldn't afford to be weak. Not like she had with Henry. Not even with Brian.

Never, ever weak. She slapped his chest with her free hand, forcing that wicked smile through her grimace. "Recruit us a god damned doctor and let's get out of here, shall we?"
---------------------------------
The pirates beat a hasty retreat, not so much as a victory whoop. Henry's men were left to clean up the mess and reclaim the sloop-the pirates stopped in port hardly long enough to be noticed before taking off.

Later, stories of a kidnapped doctor in town might filter along to Henry-and little else. Ambrosia, and Leah's reputation, was saved!
--------------------------------------------------------
 
"The messenger has arrived, Governor."

Henry looked up to the Lieutenant -- the replacement for the man who'd been killed at North Island during Leah's assault on Pirate Jack -- and gestured forward both him and the man in civilian dress behind him. They both entered and stopped on the opposite side of the War Table, snapping to attention.

"Report," Henry said bluntly. For almost three months there had been no news on Leah, and the last three weeks had been spent battling a fever; Henry was not in the mood for small talk or protocol. "Tell me you found ... the ... Anna Marie."

He'd almost said the Crosswind, but caught himself at the last moment. Not only had he been battling illness, Henry had been battling rumor as well. The Lieutenant had mentioned to Lawrence his seeing the Governor in a state of undress while in the presence of the pirate captain, wondering whether their noble leader was getting himself into a precarious position. The officer had questioned Henry's Aide in private ... or so he thought; he couldn't have known that one of the Fortress's Guards was nearby, had overheard the conversation, and had quickly fed the rumor pig with the news that Lord Henry was fucking a pirate and it was the reason he'd sent Port Ambrosia's Guard into a battle that ended up taking eighteen lives, either there that night on the shore or back here in the Hospital in the coming days.

With the death of the Lieutenant at North Island and some closely guarded emotions on Henry's part, the rumors had died down and the common soldiers had moved on to other juicy stories. The latest topic? The missing Spanish Princess.

"Yes, m'lord," the messenger said, his tone grave. He handed out a rolled up scroll, sealed with wax and the signet ring impression of the Governor of Terra Lee. Henry tore the document open and read quickly. He looked up to Lawrence, then beyond his Aide to the man in the corner who looked as if he were about to pee his pants with anxiety. Henry offered out the scroll and said, "Ambassador, I have good news and I have bad news."

The Spanish emissary hurried forward and snatched up the scroll. He read it through -- twice -- and his eyes widened until it seemed they would pop right out of his head. "They found the ship ... but ... they don't know where the Princess is...? How can that be?"

The Ambassador looked to Henry, who looked to the Messenger. "What's not in that?"

The Messenger looked nervous, half glancing to the Spaniard before looking back to his noble lord with hesitation. "There ... there wasn't anything more, m'lord ... than ... than what was in the--"

"Go ahead, man," he told him, resigned that bad news was better than no news. "Tell us what the Governor told you to tell me in private. She may be my betrothed, but she's his Princess."

The Messenger hesitated, then said, "The Anna Marie was forced to take shelter at Terra Lee. The Governor sent a Communications Ship to update--"

"It never arrived ... the first one, I mean," Henry cut in. The fast sloop that his counterpart in Terra Lee dispatched had, it was learned, been attacked and sunk by a French frigate. A second craft had been dispatched when it became obvious that the first had failed in its mission, but it had run aground and been forced to take shelter in a cove for repairs, arriving at Port Ambrosia only four days ago. Henry told the Messenger, "Continue."

"The Anna Marie was fully repaired and stocked to finish its journey, when a pirate ship arrived in port. The Governor allowed the ship to dock on the condition that its crew remained in the Lower City ... near the harbor. But..."

When the man hesitated, the Ambassador asked anxiously, "What, man...? What has happened to the Princess?"

The Messenger glanced nervously between the two nobles, then answered, "The next morning, just before dawn, as the tide shifted, the pirate ship left."

The Ambassador was beside himself with dread. "And...? And...?"

"The port's doctor was missing," the Messenger said, "Taken from his bed, his wife reported. And ... so was the Princess."

"How did this happen?" Henry asked in place of the Ambassador, who had turned away and was mumbling to himself in rapid Spanish as his arms flailed about in dismay. "How did the pirates get to the Princess?"

The Messenger only shrugged, adding, "No one knows, m'Lord."

Henry turned and moved to the window, looking out onto the bay. The lanterns on the Lexington and a pair of sloops -- all that remained of his armed ships -- swung back and forth as the ships shifted about, the result of a growing and approaching storm.

Where is she...?

His question wasn't in reference to the missing Spanish Princess; it was directed at Leah instead. Where is she...? And ... is this her doing? The disappearance of the Doctor made all the sense in the world. Henry had tried to talk Leah into remaining on board the Crosswind during the battle, but the report of the battle had placed her at the front of the pirate assault, right where she shouldn't have been; and a secondary report -- more rumor than fact -- had claimed that she'd returned to her ship, favoring her injured side and grimacing with almost every step.

"I want the Lexington ready to depart the moment the storm breaks," Henry ordered, turning to look to the new Lieutenant. "I want your best men on board ... and ... I'll be coming, too."

"M'lord?" Lawrence said with obvious concern for his land lubber master. To offer the man a way out he asked, "Is it wise for the Governor to--"

"The Princess is my first concern," Henry lied, covering the fact that he simply wanted to -- needed to -- see Leah and ensure that she was safe. Three months without the woman who'd stolen his heart -- and now, possibly, his betrothed -- was tearing him apart. He circled around his desk, drawing the attention of the panicking Spaniard. "I assure you, Ambassador ... we will find her ... safe and sound, I promise."
 
Leah had never been sicker in her life. Brian had wanted to steal one of Ambrosia's doctors, but Leah wouldn't hear of it-forgoing the medical expertise for a gruesome night alone in her cabin, shakily wielding a heated needle. She had sewn clothing and sails-skin shouldn't have been any damned different.

She had set a course for a Danish settlement some distance away-but when she took ill hardly a week into the trip, Brian panickedly adjusted for the much closer, semi friendly Terra Lee. During the long journey, Leah had withdrawn completely, throwing out some excuse about planning a new raid-but the crew murmured with suspicion, and, as the days went on-distrust.

It was not a good situation-and in the second week, Leah took on a fever and locked her door to everyone.

Brian took to guarding his captain's door at night, sitting outside the cabin whittling, his blade flashing in the moonlight, his malevolent gaze watchful for dissension. He hoped Leah recovered enough soon-he wasn't sure he could assert control for much longer.

Finally they arrived in port, and the men let off some steam in the local taverns and bars. They took note of the Spanish ship likewise in port, but without the captain's go ahead-let it be. But a few sailors made mention of a prissy Spanish royal and, for a small bribe...
__________________________________
"I'm amazed you've survived this long." The doctor said matter of factly, managing to look dignified in his night shirt and slippers. Leah didn't comment, holding the torn shirt closely to her chest and gritting her teeth against the pain as he sewed her skin properly after, God help her, cleaning the wound.

"The fever itself should have rendered you catatonic, but the risk of -infection- alone was astronomical, I can't believe-"

"Yeah, yeah, that I survived it." Leah breathed, wiping the sweat from her brow. Jesus she felt dirty. Achey and weak. But awake. Thinking. That was more than she could have said for the past few weeks. Bitterly, she reflected on Henry's hospitality. If pride wasn't lethal...

Men joked and jeered as they returned to the ship, Leah could hear their heavy boot falls as some shuffled off below decks to sleep it off. Leah cursed as another stitch was sewn. "Whatever your usual rates, doc-I'll double them if you'll stop pulling so Goddamned hard!" Leah was not a good patient. She was not a good patient at all, and the poor doctor's steady hands trembled as he tried to be more gentle. He didn't want to be walking a plank, after all.

Men hooted and carried on out on deck. She tried to focus on both things at once before hissing as the doctor tied a knot, seeming relieved and satisfied with his work before he began to bandage her up. A distant scream surprised both of them-and before he could finish, Leah had shoved him aside, drawn on the loose overshirt-and opened her cabin door.
.....

The Spanish princess was a bit older, by the day's standards-unmarried at twenty nine, she had spent most of her life in pampered luxury, and most recently-had been married off to a noble of a faraway island where she would rule as a Queen, so she'd been told. She was not an unattractive bride-dark, curled hair and flashing black eyes, she was a short, slightly plump woman of a healthy continence. Her nose was slightly upturned and her lips set in a permanent frown.

"My father will see you all -hanged!-" She declared through enraged tears as she was shoved from one set of pirates to another, her skirts grabbed and torn, her voice mimicked and mocked as the circle of pirates closed in tighter, as she became more afraid. "Do you know who I-!" Her note of haughty incredulous dissension was interrupted when a pirate had the nerve to kiss her, his hand catching her around a thigh through her petticoats, dragging her closer to his stinking form-

The group quieted for some reason, the princess frantically struggling, unable to see the red haired, tall woman who had arrived on the scene by pushing past pirates to see the scene at their center-her face darkening to frightening proportions as she strode up, tapped the pirate firmly on the shoulder-and punched him square in the face when he turned, knocking the full grown man and his captured prize down by throwing her entire shoulder and body into the punch, positively furious.

Left fist still curled, the red haired fright stood over the pair-Catalina quick to kick herself free of him, skitter backwards to her unsteady feet. She had never seen a woman like this, this pirate-wearing what must have been a boy's breeches, her red hair tumbled all about her shoulders and angry, red with rage face.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU IDIOTS DOING ON -MY- SHIP?!" She demanded in a bellow, not even armed Catalina realized-but every man there seemed to quake beneath her rage. Who...was this woman their leader?! A woman pirate?!

Leah kicked the man with one of her long, thigh high black boots-and resisted the urge to stomp on his god damned windpipe. Just what the fuck had...where the hell was Brian? She looked around but didn't see him, and for a minute-she wondered what the hell she was paying the man for. "Throw this dog off my ship, God dammit-" She barked, and men hastened to obey-Leah would be damned if she let these men get away from her. This was her fucking ship. It was her damned crew. She wouldn't have a bunch of rapists aboard.

Dogs. Men were goddamned dogs.

Her eyes lit on the ruffled noble, narrowing. Looked Spanish. "Who the hell are you?" Leah demanded, a menacing step forward. At five eight, she was easily half a foot taller than the royal before her-but that hardly stopped the princess' insults. "I am Princess Catalina of Spain, pirate whore-" And she spit at her feet, chin up defiantly.

Every man aboard went deathly silent, staring. Leah could feel their gazes, waiting to see what she would do. Leah didn't like hitting women. Leah didn't like hitting anyone weaker than she was. But the bitch had made a mistake, disrespecting her before her men.

Leah's expression shifted to a bitter, dangerous smile-and then she back handed the woman so fast there was hardly time to dodge it. "Spain is an ocean away, girl." She hissed, shaking her head. "And so is your father. I'm all that stands between you and a night at the hands of my men." Leah threatened omniously-emptily, it turned out. She could never subject someone to rape.

It didn't matter who or what they were. Perhaps because she herself was female. Perhaps because she knew just how scarring such a thing was.

"But my betrothed is not!" The spanish woman retorted from the deck, a hand to her reddened face. "Lord Stanton will see you tarred and torn apart by birds-"

Leah blinked, and then she stared. Henry...had a betrothed? Not only was her new ally to be married-he was to married to the enemy?

"...is that so?" Leah mused aloud, aware every eye was still upon her. She scanned the crowd, their fearful, expectant, and suspicious expressions read in a glance. Poor, easily infatuated Henry-actually a conniving noble after all? Leah felt another spiral of rage. "Seems our newest friend believes he can double dip, boys." Leah announced with that wicked, confident grin-even as her eyes narrowed with ire.

She looked back to the princess. "...string her up to the mast. We'll see how much daddy and sir lover boy will pony up for her "Safe return"." Leah turned her back, striding angrily away for her cabin to throw the doctor out-and begin to furiously hatch a plan to bilk the -hell- out of the arrogant fucking noble who had really thought he could pull a fast one on her.

CURRENT DAY!

The passing storm allowed a pair of Spanish galleons to finally sail into port, no doubt just as Henry's was set to sail out-Spanish galleons flying Leah's flags, the earring'd skull and cross bones. It seems the pirate captain had been busy, these past three months-and unfortunately for Henry's Spanish relations, the stolen ships were meant for -him-.

The skeleton crew of each ship was made up of seasoned pirates and some fresh faced, adventure seeking young men of port cities-one of whom seemed particularly cheerful. The blond, freckled lad asked to give a message to one "Lawrence", and if Lawrence could not be found-the governor himself.

"I've got special instructions, you see." The lad explained apologetically to the soldier (or whomever) he sought. "To only trust either of them."

He bore a letter for Henry, he explained. A most important letter and message.
 
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It was two days before the storm broke. Henry had spent the time moving back and forth between the windows of his bed chamber, where he'd spent the most incredible night in memory; and the War Table where the pirate who had made that night what it was had updated his maps to the point that -- except for Leah herself -- Henry probably had the world's most accurate navigation aids for the archipelago.

Of course, those maps weren't going to help him find Leah. She was surely far beyond the archipelago; she could be out on the open sea or hiding in any number of ports spread across the Caribbean or Gulf. Three months... Hell, she could be in London as far as that goes.

A knock on the door jolted Henry from his reverie. "Enter!"

An Aide stepped just inside the door and reported, "North shore lookout reports approaching ships ... two, Spanish galleons."

Incoming ships would be a good excuse for a walk. He been cooped up in the Fortress for days, even back before the storm struck. Henry doubted that he'd actually meet the ships -- it was a bit below the island's Governor to do so -- but he could at least stroll down to the cliff for a better view and a breath of fresh air.

"Have the Lieutenant man the batteries and send a detachment to the docks," he instructed, pulling a foul weather jacket from a hook and selecting a wide brimmed hat. "Standard protocol. And send a messenger to the Spanish Ambassador's quarters. Inform him that some of his countrymen are paying us a visit--"

"He knows, m'lord," the Aide cut in, quickly clarifying, "I think he knew before we did, Governor ... as if he'd been expecting them for some time."

Henry stared at the Aide for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. The Ambassador had not been pleased about Henry's response to the missing Princess situation since the day he told the man it had been the Spanish's responsibility to safeguard the Royal. But ... would he send for galleons as a sign of strength? Henry did not fear an attack, of course; even if Henry did not have good standing with the Crown, an attack against Port Ambrosia would still be seen by the British as an attack on England.

"How long 'til they're in the harbor?" The Aide responded less than an hour, after which Henry clarified his orders. "I want every man at station before those ships arrive ... and the Ambassador in the Library in ten minutes. and if he resists ... drag him there in his night shirt if you have to."



Henry was standing at the library windows when the Ambassador entered ... thirty minutes after his request for the man's presence. Without turning to face the emissary, Henry gestured toward the harbor below -- and the two ships at the mouth of the inlet -- and demanded, "Explain why I didn't know about your friends, please, sir."

The Spaniard moved to stand at the windows, a few feet separating him from Henry. He stared out at the ships for a moment, searching for the words to explain why he hadn't warned his host. Just as he began to open his mouth, a flag began to unfurl and rise; a moment later, the same was repeated on the other ship.

Henry's stomach rolled with horror as he saw the black that could only mean pirates. He turned to look at the Lieutenant, standing in the corner, and bellowed, "Prepare the batteries! One shot from those vessels ... you destroy them."

"Yes, m'lord!" the officer responded, hurrying out.

Henry hurried to the French style doors and burst through them, moving to the balcony for a better look. He watched the flags rising, catching wind; suddenly, a rush of air caused one to spread out fully ... and again, Henry's stomach turned.

Leah!

It wasn't just any pirate coming into Port Ambrosia ... it was his pirate. Or at least ... she had been. Who could possibly know what their standing was now?

The Ambassador began mumbling in quick Spanish that, while he barely spoke it himself, included more than a few profanities that Henry did recognize. Henry turned to face the emissary and, with a sly smile, said, "It's good to see the Spanish navy stepping up where I failed."

He turned away from the Ambassador and headed back for his room to change in something appropriate for meeting Leah again.



The blond, freckle faced lad seemed just a bit too confident as he walked closer to Henry. He was just ten feet away when the Lieutenant stepped out before him, stopping him in his tracks and whispering softly, "That's close enough. Speak your piece."

The boy waited until the Lieutenant stepped back again before he held out the letter from Leah. Lawrence took the message, then turned it over to the Governor, who broke the seal and read...
 
Hurried, spidery but delicate script spilled across the page in black ink, a hand Henry might recognize from the hastily scrawled note Leah had written for Brian all those weeks ago. Oddly enough, even in her writing Leah seemed able to convey that sly grin and harmless sarcasm, evident in the very first words:

"Governor Stanton, your grace,
May I present two sea worthy ships for your personal use and Ambrosia's protection, as promised. I've sent along a skeleton crew loyal to me for each, but expect you'll want to even the odds with a few men of your own. First mates Rawley and Kent are under implicit instruction to follow your command. They are good enough men who can easily manage their lot. I do hope their being Spanish ships doesn't upset any of your other allies. On such a note, perhaps we ought to talk next I am in port. For now, I hope you will accept my apologies for not delivering them personally-I and my men required a bit of holiday to celebrate a recent rash of raids.
To the days ahead,
Captain Leah of the Crosswind

Post Script: The boy's name is William. I'm afraid I promised him a job in your kitchens-he's a good lad with no talent whatsoever for pirating. If it pleases you, make good on my promise, hm?"​

Disappointing-no given date for when she might arrive in port herself, no explanation for her absence.

The boy was looking at Henry expectantly, but even if Henry made mention of the kitchen job-he had more. "There's one more thing the captain asked me to relay, sir." He gave the rest of the room a pondering glance, particularly the Spanish ambassador.

He would only wait a moment for encouragement or for people to be cleared out, either way- "The captain wishes to inquire what you might pay as ransom..." The freckled faced boy had the good sense not to grin, though he could hardly contain his amusement. "...for the Spanish Princess Catalina, your betrothed?"
 
Henry could see in the young man's face that the information he was to give further was likely intended just for Henry's ears. He looked to each of the men in the room -- the Spanish Ambassador, Lawrence, the Lieutenant, and the four soldiers -- and said firmly, "Leave us."

The Spanish Ambassador argued with the dismissal, demanding to know how the Galleons ended up in the hands of pirates and what had happened to the crews. Henry assured the man that answers would be forth coming and repeated his request. Once there was only he and William in the room, he said, "Go on, please."

"The captain wishes to inquire what you might pay as ransom..." the young soon-not-to-be-pirate asked, "...for the Spanish Princess Catalina, your betrothed?"

Henry's stomach rolled again, painfully enough to cause him to grimace noticeably before he was able to turn away and -- as casually as he could -- walk over to the library's windows, as if looking out to the sea for contemplation. As calm as his body was, his mind was racing. He'd suspected that if it had been Leah who had taken the Princess, that she would also know why the woman was coming to Port Ambrosia.

He turned to the young sailor, studying him for a moment before moving to the door and asking the Lieutenant to return. Once the man and two of the guards had entered, Henry said with a polite tone, "Take young William here into custody, Lieutenant."

The pirate's eyes grew large as the two guards immediately behind him grasped his arms tightly and started him for the door.

"Gently, men, gently," Henry told the pair. "No harm to come to him. Just a bit of protective custody."

Henry waited until the four men were gone, then called Lawrence back inside and closed the door. With a tone of anger that belied his calm expression, he demanded, "Find Captain Leah. Tell her I wish to talk to her ... immediately." He hesitated for a moment, considering. He looked to Lawrence again and said, "The Black Gull ... one hour. Tell her I will be alone and that I would appreciate if she came alone as well ... Captain to Governor."

He turned away, but before Lawrence could even acknowledge the order, he spun back to his Aide and said, "And if the Captain does not comply ... blow those fucking ships out of the water."

He turned away and returned to the windows, staring down upon the galleons. Leah had said they were lightly staffed, but for all Henry knew, they were manned and armed to the teeth, just waiting for a reason to pound the city. Even lightly manned, though, the ships would be hard to sink with just the land batteries and the Lexington's guns. If there was one thing the Spanish did well, it was build sailing ships.

Henry didn't want an armed confrontation with Leah, of course. What he wanted was her arms wrapped around him as he pounded his groin against her own. But, knowing that she knew he was betrothed, it was more likely that she's be stripping canvas covers of guns that stripping clothes of her body.

And besides, he couldn't even be sure that she herself was on one of the two gift ships.
 
Men milled about on the ships and on the deck, awaiting, it seemed, word or instruction from the "big boss", Governor Stanton. When Lawrence rolled up instead and made a few polite inquiries, the grizzled pirate in charge-Rawley, he introduced-scratched his head. "Er, Captain Leah ain't here. She and the Crosswind crew are a few days further West. A port called Normandy-uh, heh. I don't 'spect you'd be interested in a dive like that though, sir." The salt and pepper haired pirate was clean shaven, and by the look of the medals on his officer's coat-once a proud member of the British Royal Navy.

"Is there some sort of problem?" He asked with a slight furrowed brow, completely oblivious to any plot of ransom or a missing princess. He'd been hired on to run this here ship for an upstanding British noble, and he intended to do just that. "If the flags are a bother, I can order them down-I prefer not to fly them, actually."


Normandy was a pirate port on a small tropical island that enjoyed a reputation for having the best women and best brew in the whole Caribbean. At any one time twenty to thirty ships could be docked at its decks, and only the roughest of pirate captains dared risk their ships and treasure in the gambling dens and bars that dotted the landscape. One could easily get lost in the crowds and nighttime activity, where men laughed too loud and pirates fought in the streets.

The Crosswind was docked along side several of her larger sisters in arms, the red headed pirate joining the festivities on the fourth day of docking there after unloading the unlucky doctor on an outgoing ship heading back to Terra Lee.

She fought a few brawls, she drank, she traded stories and laughed at the misadventures of a few fellow captains who were wise enough to keep their hands to themselves.

In a sprawling bar full of drinking pirates and upbeat, crass music played on accordions, fiddles and a rusted out piano, the pirate captain was dressed in a cranberry wrap around skirt with a slit up one side, her thigh high boots accentuating her long legs. She wore a gypsy's white top and her hair down, save a small braid that pulled it back from her face. A new hat had been found some time ago and it was currently perched on her head-a tri corner black velvet one. A black cincher held a dagger plainly at the small of her back, while her rapier was sheathed on her hip to dissuade any and all interested parties.

Along the skirt's hem coins were sewn so that they clinked together in time with the music as Leah danced, the graceful pirate twirling across the raised floor with enjoyment before finally standing in the large, throne like captain's chair stolen off a Spanish ship-bowed and slid into her seat sideways, long legs over an arm of it, a glass of wine accepted and brought to her lips as she watched the fanfare of other dancers and their partners.
 
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"Normandy...?" Henry repeated softly, his tone revealing his disappointment. The fact that the port was a pirate haven -- lawless and out of control -- worried him less than the fact that it was two, maybe three days away, and that was with favorable winds. If conditions were against him, it could take a week or more, and he wanted to see -- wanted to speak to -- Leah now, this very moment. He looked past Lawrence toward yet another pirate -- this one wearing portions of a disheveled, Royal Navy uniform -- and asked, "Can he be trusted?"

"He's a pirate, m'lord," his Aide responded quickly, "so ... no ... I very much doubt it."

Henry continued to study the man for a long moment, then said softly, "I wish to speak to him, please ... alone."

Lawrence again argued -- quietly and with respect -- his Governor's plan but resigned at that look from Henry, which said This is what we're going to do. He took a step back, then turned and crossed the room to Rawley, instructing him to go forward in the same breath that he told the soldiers to remain where they were.

Rawley met Henry on the balcony. It had quickly become a beautiful day, with the winds and rains vanishing as if exiled by God. The Spanish galleons -- with their black flags now hanging low in the windless afternoon -- had, at the Lieutenant's insistence, move away from the dock and were now anchored in the middle of the the port, their men restricted to them until Ambrosia's governor could decide what to do with them.

"What to do with them...?" the Spanish Ambassador had practically screamed. "What to do with them? Return them to the King of Spain! What else would you do with them?"

Henry had tired of the Ambassador and restricted him, too; he was in his own quarters in the Fortress, under guard, until Henry made sense of his current situation. Lawrence had made three round trips from the Fortress to the galleons, talking to this pirate, Rawley ... gaining information about his assignment and about Leah herself.

"Do you know who I am?" Henry asked the pirate as the man stopped a respectable distance from the noble. He'd phrased the question carefully, allowing Rawley to answer it in anyway he wished. Henry wanted to know whether Leah's man -- whether any of Leah's men -- were aware of his personal relationship with their red headed captain.

"Governor Henry Stanton of Port Ambrosia," the man responded with the tone of respect Henry would have expected from a man still in the Royal Navy. Henry waited for And Captain Leah's lover ... but instead, the pirate continued, "And my Commander, m'lord."

Rawley had already explained that Leah had given the stolen ships to Henry and that the crews were his to command. That left the Governor of Port Ambrosia in a pickle. The ships and crews, light as they may be, were exactly what he needed to accomplish his aims beyond the archipelago ... but now that he actually had them, he had no idea what to do with them. He was a British noble, not a Naval Commander, let alone a Caribbean pirate. His Lieutenant wasn't about to lead former Spanish and English sailors-turned-pirates on missions, and Henry himself ... well, he didn't even like boats! It had taken him half of the voyage from England to get over the sea sickness and finally gain his sea legs, and once on land had decided he really didn't want to go back out there again if he didn't absolutely need to do so.

Henry looked into Rawley's eyes, waiting for a moment, but nothing more personal about who Henry was -- particularly to Leah -- came out. He didn't know whether to be surprised or not; he didn't know whether to be relieved ... or disappointed. Do you really want her men to know you parted her thighs?

One part of him did, of course. Henry was a proud man, and he would love to have the men around Leah know that he held claim to her. Do you...? he quickly asked himself as he again heard himself think the words. He'd thought about his relationship with the exotic, erotic woman a thousand times -- a million times -- since she'd left more than three months earlier. He wanted to imagine that Leah was his woman. But ... in all honesty ... he doubted very much that that was the case.

"How loyal are your men to you," Henry asked.

"They will do as I command, m'lord," Rawley answered without hesitation.

Henry turned to face the man straight on, stepping a bit closer to him. Henry wasn't a small man -- 6 feet, 195 pounds of fit male -- but Rawley stood two inches taller and had a broader and obviously more muscular body. And yet Henry stood toe to toe with him as he asked with total confidence, "And how loyal will you be to me ... Captain."

Rawley's lips widened a slight bit. Henry couldn't be certain whether the man had found the question comical or whether this was the first time someone had called him Captain. But Rawley stiffened tall and answered, "I ... will do as you command, Governor."

Henry studied the man for a long moment. He couldn't be sure whether this man was true blue ... or simply trained well by Leah. This is a trap, he told himself again, which was ironic as the decision he'd made -- to go to Normandy to find Leah -- hadn't been the red head's request but instead was Henry's own desire. She wasn't leading him into a trap; he was offering himself up!



It was well after midnight when the Ambrosia dropped anchor in the middle of Normandy's bay and within moments had its launch in the water and men -- including Henry -- descending the ladders. The noble land-lubber was eager to stand on solid ground again; the trip had been quick -- just 54 hours -- and he had managed it without puking his guts once, yet Henry wanted so badly to feel unmoving earth below his boots as much as he wanted to feel Leah's naked body under his own.

Is that really why you came? he asked himself. To get fucked? He had so very many things to talk to Leah about, yet couldn't get the pleasure of her atop him that one night out of his mind.

They made it ashore with little attention from anyone who seemed to care. Normandy was a busy port, and the closer the men got to the city's hub, the noisier and more active it seemed to become. Per Rawley's suggestion, the five men -- the pirate captain, two of his men, Henry, and his Lieutenant -- were all wearing the simple fare of common seamen.

The Lieutenant had demanded on carrying his broad sword, but Rawley had talked him into a smaller cutlass, saying it made him stand out less. Henry, who didn't typically carry anything larger than the six inch dagger his father had left him, felt awkward with a similar cutlass on his side. Oh, he could use it well enough, perhaps not against a skilled swordsman but against a drunken sailor he thought he could hold his own. But he still felt a bit silly with it tapping against his thigh as he walked down the dark, winding alleys of Normandy.

"This is it," Rawley said, stopping the others in front of an inn. A sign above the door had once announced the establishment's name, but a multitude of gun shots had reduced the once proud plank of oak to a single word, Black. Rawley looked to Henry and continued tentatively, "My man at the dock said Captain Leah would be here, but ... are you sure that you--"

Henry strode forth without answering, pushing between two drunk, singing sailors and stepping into the raucous tavern.

Henry's stomach turned with anxiety ... for it only took a moment to spot Leah in the crowd. She was so ... exotic. She danced about in a red skirt that seemed to jingle with every movement, audible even over the face paced music coming from a slightly raised stand in the far corner. She spun, and a slit up one side of her skirt flashed a bit of her thigh, just above the top of her tall boots, making Henry's dick twinge with excitement. Oh, how he wanted to hold that body again ... and be held by that body as well.

Leah spun, showing Henry her backside, then her front ... her round buttocks, then her full breasts, emphasized by the white blouse that revealed just enough cleavage to make the men about her -- to make Henry -- yearn for her but not so much as to make them think she was just another bar maid, available for their pleasure.

Henry pulled his eyes off of Leah when he remembered he was not alone. He glanced left, then right, to his man and to Rawley's. He realized he'd been ogling Leah like he had the young whore his father had bought him on his fourteenth birthday, to Make a man out of him. He shifted his weight at the feel of his dick swelling quickly to full size, then used the adjustment of the cutlass belt to hide that he was shifting yet another long weapon.

Leah dropped into a throne-like chair sideways, her long legs dangling over the arm; the split in her skirt again showed just a hint of skin, and Henry yearned to return to that night and simply forget about the other dozen or so issues that seemed to be screaming for head of the line privileges in their upcoming conversation.

"Stay close," Rawley said to Henry with a note of concern as he headed into the tavern. Henry, then the Lieutenant, then Rawley's two sailors, headed deeper into the inn, and a moment later, Henry was standing over Leah's seat looking down at her ... making eye contact with her ... and trying desperately to figure out what the hell he was supposed to say to the woman ... to the kidnapper of his betrothed ... to the pillager of Spanish galleons ... to his potential partner in crime and conquest ... to his lover...
 
The room tilted and spun slightly, but Leah wasn't truly drunk. A bit inebriated certainly-and what pirate wouldn't be?-but not falling down drunk. She wouldn't dare in this crowd of ruffians. Still-she was delighted with the energy and feel to the place, her heart beating fast in her chest from the dancing, her pulse in her fingertips and everything vivid and -alive-.

She tipped her head back to take a long pull of the sweet wine-and nearly choked on it to see none other than Henry gazing down at her. Leah's green flecked, hazel eyes widened in surprise-her expression going still as she suspiciously stared up at him a moment-before she recovered with a wicked curve of her lips, slowly taking another sip of wine. She played it well enough, but her mind raced with thought. How on earth had he found her here? No-what was he DOING here?! Fifty men would gut him like a fish if they knew, if they even suspected some hoighty toighty English noble was in attendance-

Jesus, he was either crazy or had balls of steel.

Leah swung her legs off the arm of the chair, straightening to scan the crowd. No one seemed out of place, which meant this was no ill fated attempt to haul her off to a waiting ship and rope necklace-and yet that wasn't the real fear, the real fear was that this man, this stupid, stupidly brave man had come alone with little to no back up.

She could expose him now and it'd all be over, and as before-the thought of his vulnerability bothered her.

Leah made a square turn and grabbed his arm even as she finished her wine, a shove to a stumbling pirate who happened by-and hauled the dressed down governor down a narrow hall and to a door she managed to unlock and shove open in record time, possessing the one and only key.

It was noticeably quieter in the small rented quarters-a room filled with books of all things, dusty tomes and well used maps of all kinds filling two makeshift shelves and a table, a four poster bed with ugly trappings in the corner.

She rounded on him the instant she slammed shut the door, a hard poke to his chest. "What the hell are you doing here Henry?" She hissed, the young woman's alarm genuine as . "Do you know what they would do to you?"
 
By the look in her eyes, Henry had caught the pirate captain by surprise ... extreme surprise! She stared at him, then scanned the tavern; if it had occurred to Henry that she feared apprehension by his forces, he would have understood her concern, but taking her in had never been in the fore of his mind.

She grabbed him by the hand and led him through the crowd, pushing larger, meaner pirates away like low hanging branches on tall trees. Henry glanced back over his shoulder to the small -- miniscule -- detachment escorting him. His Lieutenant reached instinctively to the hilt of his cutlass and began to step forward; but Rawley, who likely knew Leah, the crowd, and the situation far better slapped a hand to the man's chest, stopping him, then gave Henry a nod that seemed somehow assuring.

Leah led him into a tiny room that Henry assumed served as her quarters while ashore in Normandy. He'd been told that pirates typically had places on land for the storage of personal possessions, booty, treasure, and the like; but somehow, he'd never expected to find Leah or Jack or any of the other independents occupying a space that was smaller than the water closet of his bed chamber on Port Ambrosia.

"What the hell are you doing here Henry?" Leah hissed with obvious concern. "Do you know what they would do to you?"

Henry wasn't sure if there had been more words coming or if that had been all she had to say. He surged forward, pressing his body against hers and practically slamming her against the wall book shelf; as he grabbed her hands and pulled them to the small of her back, he pressed his mouth hard against hers in a passionate kiss that made it easy to ignore the books and knickknacks falling from the book case to the floor around their feet.
 
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