|posted on 12-Feb-2003 4:11:30 PM by Anais Nin|
The beautiful, totally awesome banner is made by DreamerKitten. Thank you so much, Kate!
I do realize that I shouldn't be here and that I should be finishing "Sexual Education" but I couldn't help it. I read Mia Nora's incredible fic "Prisoner Of Love" and it inspired me to write a pirate-fic myself...
Author: Anaïs Nin (So, that’s me, Lynn, not the real Anaïs Nin… )
Story: A Pirate's Love
Rating: Probably up till NC-17... I can't resist...
Disclaimer: As I said previously, I've read Mia Nora's story to get some inspiration (I won't use any of her ideas) and there's this book I read a couple of years ago about a girl that dressed up like a guy and worked on a pirate ship. I don’t remember the title, nor the author, but there’s no infringement intended, so please do not - I repeat, do not - sue... I doubt that the author would even recognize that this fic is slightly based on his/her book.
Summary: Liz is the daughter of the very rich salesman Jeffrey Parker, who wants her to get married to the rich James D'Allemange. She has no intention or whatsoever to obey her father's orders, and when her brother Alex suggests to leave on a ship, she decides to go with him, dressed up like a boy. Pirates (under supervision of Max) raid the ship, and Alex and Liz are taken prisoner at their ship... Read to see what happens next…
Liz sat in the windowsill – silently – watching the sun set, disappear, sink into the seemingly endless ocean. Its last warm rays of sunlight warmed her skin as she admired the rainbow of colors that spread itself in the never motionless water. Each wave consisted of a different shade, a different color, and they seamlessly blended over in each other.
A few ships were visible, somewhere in the distance, and another one appeared from behind the horizon, its mast proudly reaching for the sky.
She sighed softly and listened to the calm lullaby of the waves that had finally ended their long journey and were now arriving at the beach, gently lapping at the shores.
What she wouldn’t give to be on one of those ships, to sail away with the wind, her destiny unknown. What she wouldn’t give to get a ticket out of here…
She’d never despised being a lady as badly as she did now. She’d never wanted to leave her home as much as today. She longed for a chance to get away from her father, the person she had believed that loved her more than anything else, anybody else in the whole world, but was now forcing her to marry someone she did not love.
To marry a person she hated.
Hated with a vengeance, a passion that was unfamiliar to her.
Lord James d’Allemange.
He was the reason of her distress, her despair. His arrogant little half smile, his stupidity and his selfishness infuriated her, made her hate him, despise him, and fear him. She feared the power he’d have over her when the marriage would be solemnized.
Her father wanted her to marry Lord James, seeing that he was the wealthiest of all the candidates that were willing to wed her. He did not listen to her resistance, her vivid protests. She would not marry a person she didn’t love.
She’d rather get disinherited or run away, but she wouldn’t marry that jerk.
Hell, she’d rather die.
She wasn’t sure if she could leave Alex, though, or Mother or Maria for that matter. It was her love for them versus her hate for Lord James, and no compromise was possible.
The piercing sound of a ship’s horn that penetrated through the silence, merciless shredding it into little pieces, was audible over the soft and peaceful chirping of the crickets. It drifted in the air around her, reached her ears and mocked her, laughed at her, for she wasn’t on sea, she wasn’t free.
She furiously blinked away the tears that were rapidly forming in her eyes and – needing some comfort, some grip on life – she deeply inhaled the warm, humid air of a sultry night that was filled with lost, broken promises.
It was time to leave, for both her and Alex, time to escape the madness that was her life…
Let me know what you think, and I might continue!
[ edited 8 time(s), last at 18-Feb-2003 1:55:13 AM ]
|posted on 13-Feb-2003 2:02:58 AM by Anais Nin|
Thank you for all your sweet words! I'll try to continue this today, okay? For everybody who's reading my other fic: don't expect such a long updates as on Sexual Education, cuz I have much more trouble writing a more "decent" fic...
|posted on 13-Feb-2003 11:19:50 AM by Anais Nin|
|Just dropping by to let ya know part 2 is almost ready... |
Do you guys want it?
Let me know...
|posted on 13-Feb-2003 3:12:51 PM by Anais Nin|
|Sorry it took me so long...|
I'm a little late b/c my boyfriend was planning tomorrow's date... Isn't he sweet???
He stood firmly at the prow of his ship, the wind ruffling his hair, blowing it around his face. The seagulls’ cries resounded in the endless sky and echoed in his ears.
Fresh sea air filled his lungs, and, after breathing it in slowly, in steady breaths, he lazily breathed it out, feeling more alive than he ever had while doing so.
He felt great.
More than great, actually.
He felt amazing, as if he wasn’t just lord and master of his ship, but lord and master of the world. And although he felt wonderful, he couldn’t help but feel the yearning of his heart, the emptiness deep inside of him, the craving to share his feelings, his luck with somebody else.
He longed for a woman.
Not just any woman.
He longed for her, his soulmate, his meant-to-be, the spirit that was kindred to his.
He longed for love.
He had ‘loved’ women before, plenty of them, with different motives. Some of those women had been beautiful, some of them rich, and he had courted them up for their money, or to satisfy his own needs and desires. He had never LOVED a woman just for her, never before had he wanted to please his lover, make her feel beautiful.
The sun was slowly setting behind him, covering the rear of the ship with its deep, red glance and coating the front part of the ship with a light golden shimmer.
He was rich, very rich, but he knew that he could never feel rich without a woman to love. He would never feel truly rich when he wasn’t loved or cherished by a woman that he loved back.
Love, that was genuine wealth, wealth in its most primitive, and most sincere form.
He sighed exasperatedly, annoyed with this interruption on his reverie. He liked to philosophise once in a while, and hated it when one of the cabin boys disturbed him.
“What is it?” he asked harshly, letting some of his irritation shimmer through.
“Ship on starboard, sir,” the young boy nervously replied, his hands twitching behind his back.
The boy – Max believed his name was Jack – was the youngest member of his crew, only 15 years old, and he often was the target for ridicule amongst the rest of the crew.
“Nationality?” Max asked, and he felt sorry for the kid, who was only a few years younger than he was.
“A Spanish trade ship, sir,” Jack responded, and Max sighed, rubbing his temples while contemplating. A trade ship meant gold, money and merchandise.
“Artillery?” Max asked, the tone of his voice less harsh than it had been before.
“Not much, sir, about three canons, maybe four, five at most,” Jack replied.
“Five canons…” Max softly repeated to himself, pondering about the possibilities.
Five canons… That would mean that their three canons would be outnumbered. On the other hand, his crew did exist of skilled, experienced seamen, who knew very well how to handle their heavy artillery.
“Their speed?” he inquired, and he looked questioningly at Jack.
“The navigating officer guessed that it could be capable of sailing 20 miles an hour, but definitely not more, sir,” Jack informed him.
Michael was a good guesser, and Max didn’t question the correctness of his statement. They could do this, he knew, but there wasn’t any real need to do it; they had enough money for the time being.
He raked his hands through his already tousled hair and let them slide back to his neck, tiredly massaging it. Looking up at a sky that was quickly darkening, he made a decision.
“Not tonight, okay?” he said, gently ordering Jack. “Tell Michael to set course to the British Isles. We’ll need provisions and I’m sure that you guys wouldn’t mind getting off of this boat for a while.”
He knew what his men did after they had anchored and were able to get on the continent, and he surely did not approve of it. He didn’t forbid them, knowing that that was nearly impossible, but he didn’t let any opportunity pass to mock his crew with their lust for alcohol, gambling and women.
“Yes, sir,” Jack nodded, and was about to leave when Max stopped him.
“Please, call me Max, alright?” he friendly asked the boy.
Jack nodded again, saluted, and quickly left the deck.
Leaning back onto the barricade, Max sighed, and silently watched as a group of dolphins leap out of the water. For a moment, everything was perfect, and everything seemed right. There was no war, no raids, no fights or whatsoever. For a moment, he was just a normal man, looking for his beloved on a peaceful summer evening.
The moment quickly passed, though, and soon he was his old self again: a pirate, wanted by the authorities.
What was one peaceful evening in a lifetime?
What could one moment in time mean, compared with eternity?
He sighed again. It was time to go and see Michael, discuss their plans for the future. A future he wasn’t too eager to live. Every day that he lived like this was a day closer to his death, another day in which he wasn't loved. To him, life seemed so meaningless without someone to love, to take care of, and he wasn’t sure if things were ever going to change for him...
Continue? Yes? No?
Review, puh-lease... I'm shamelessly begging!!!!
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 13-Feb-2003 3:15:43 PM ]
|posted on 14-Feb-2003 2:40:00 PM by Anais Nin|
|Thnx for all the replies... On with the story:|
“Are you sure, babe?” Maria - her best friend and only servant - asked her, the pair of scissors hovering above her head.
She looked into the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with wide, innocent eyes.
Alex’s clothes were way too large and shabby for her, which was a good thing, for it didn’t reveal too much of her body. Her breasts couldn’t be seen, carefully hidden in the folds of the blouse, and her hips and her other female curves weren’t visible either.
Lowering her gaze to her hair, she hesitated. Was she sure about this? She loved her hair, the long, dark tresses and their silky softness. She believed that it was her only beautiful feature, besides her deep brown eyes.
She didn’t want to lose it, but knew that it had to be cut. It was either this, or Lord James, and when you approached the problem from this point of view, making a decision suddenly didn’t seem that hard.
So she nodded at Maria. “I’m sure,” she replied, a determined look etched on her face.
“Okay, chica, if you say so…” Maria sceptically said, and her hand approached her hair.
Liz swallowed, and closed her eyes, feeling immensely sorry for her loss. With every tress of hair Maria cut, she felt something leaving her: a part of her innocence, a part of her hope, a part of her lust for life.
A part of her heart.
A part of her femininity.
Memories were seeping out of her, dispersing in the air as her hair fell on the ground. The sound of the scissors closing, gliding through her hair and opening again resembled the sound of a guillotine, of a blade that slid through bone.
She felt Maria’s hand raking through her now short hair, and when Maria informed her that she was done, Liz was reluctant to open her eyes. Staring back at her in the mirror, sat a boy. A young boy, with some girlish features, but definitely a boy.
Not willing to believe that this was her reflection, she slowly raised her hand, and was shocked to see that the image in the mirror did the same. Tears stung her eyes, but she bit them back. She wasn’t going to cry. This was what she wanted, what she needed.
Alex, who had been silent throughout the whole ordeal, was intently looking at her. Weakly smiling at him, she touched her hair, marveling at the shortness of it. She no longer felt the pleasurable tingling of her hair on her shoulders, at the sides of her face. She felt empty without the tingling she had once hated, but had grown to love. She no longer had the cascades of dark hair to hide behind, to throw over her shoulder. It was funny how a different hairstyle could change your appearance so drastically.
Alex sympathetically answered her smile.
“There’s no turning back now, Liz,” he stated, his hands raking through his own hair, a nervous habit he had picked up a couple of years ago.
She nodded. She knew that. Casting a last glance at her room, her bed and balcony, she felt as if she already missed it.
“Let’s go,” she said, and hugged Maria tightly.
“You can still go with us, you know,” she softly whispered in her best friend’s ear. Feeling Maria shaking her head, she smiled through her tears. “You know that I can’t leave Amy,” Maria said, the tears also audible in her voice.
“I know,” Liz replied sorrowful. “I’ll miss you, girlfriend.”
“I’ll miss you, too, chica,” Maria said, and hugged her even tighter. “We’ll keep in touch, right?”
Liz nodded, playing along, even though she knew that they wouldn’t write any letters. They’d probably never see each other again.
“You betcha,” she teased her, “I’ll write you so many letters that your carrier-pigeon will have to work over-time.”
Maria giggled softly, but soon, her giggles morphed into breathy sobs and silent cries. Liz softly wept along with her best friend, not knowing how she’d ever do without her.
“I love you, ‘Ria,” she told her friend, who weakly smiled back at her.
“I love you, too, Lizzie,” Maria replied, “you’re such a handsome man…”
Liz playfully indignantly slapped her arm, and pulled Maria in another hug. She couldn’t believe that she was really leaving, finally, after all those years of longing and pining for a more adventurous life. Now that she was about to leave, she was no longer so sure if it was a good idea, but she willing to risk everything when it meant that she wouldn’t have to marry James.
After Alex had said his goodbyes to Maria, they left the house, leaving for an unknown destiny. A new future unfolded itself in front of her, starting with a new name. She no longer was Elizabeth Anne Parker. She had adopted Maria’s last name – DeLuca – and from now on, her name would be Timothy Christopher DeLuca, brother of Alexander Sean DeLuca.
I have to go now (Valentine's date ), but I'll be back later tonight...
So, pretty please review?
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 14-Feb-2003 2:46:19 PM ]
|posted on 15-Feb-2003 12:56:23 PM by Anais Nin|
|Just a lill selfish bump...|
|posted on 17-Feb-2003 11:42:20 AM by Anais Nin|
Hmm... I've got the nxt part written, but my stupid, stupid, incredibly silly lill brother decided to take the English Dictionary with him to school, and now I can't translate any unknown words into English. I'm very sorry about this, and I hope that I'll be able to post 2morrow, 'kay?
I've decided that I'll try to update this fic at least once a week. A lot more people are reading and enjoying Sexual Education (*beams* I already have 23 votes!!! ), so I'm trying to update that one about twice a week.
Thnx for all your sweet words and replies!
I love you guys!!!
|posted on 18-Feb-2003 1:54:29 AM by Anais Nin|
|I’m sorry that you had to wait this long for a new part… Its just that my Valentine date went very well, and when I got home, I headed straight for bed (ALONE, mind you ). So, the days after, I’ve been really busy, and didn’t have the time to update this fic.|
But here it is, the new part:
*Anaïs Nin proudly presents:*
One by one, his men returned, some of them reluctant to get back on board again, some of them relieved. David had a black eye and a broken nose, blood still trickling down, crossing his nose bridge, the obvious remnants of a violent fight. Staggering a little, David walked over the narrow gangway, an empty rum bottle dangling in his left hand.
Max shook his head, disappointed in the demeanor of his crew. He had been a little bit worried about Jack, who had purchased their provisions, but – thank God – the young boy had returned unharmed.
Nor he, nor Michael had left the ship during their little stop at the shores of Great Britain. Telling their crew that they didn’t want to leave their ship, fearing for theft, was just one big lie, and some of their seamen already suspected that. The Captain and his navigator officer weren’t allowed to set foot in England; Max had been banished from the country about 4 years ago.
So he just watched his men leave, a wistful look on his face.
He had always loved England; the shores, the green hills, the people. Hell, he had even loved the weather, despite of the often rainy and foggy days. He loved England, with his heart and soul, and was sure that he’d always love it, no matter what would happen.
England didn’t love him, though.
England had believed her lies, England had exiled him.
He felt a presence move closer to him, and, from the corner of his eye, he could see Michael watching him, joining him in looking at England.
Max gave him a small smile, a grateful one, hoping that it’d express his gratitude towards his best friend, navigating officer, second in command. Michael was many things, and fulfilled all of his tasks more than satisfactory.
Michael had stood by him, had weathered the storm with him, had been to hell and back, all because of him. Michael would follow him, wherever he’d go.
“Do you miss it?” Michael quietly asked him.
Max nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving the British Isles, it seemingly glued to the pubs, cafes and stores on the shore. His gaze never wavered, but after a long silence, he spook up, surprising his friend with the sudden answer.
“I miss Mother and Father, and Izzy,” he said, and he turned to Michael.
Michael nodded his agreement. “I also miss them,” he responded, and looked at Max as if he was searching for a hidden truth in his eyes.
“Just three more years, Maxwell,” he stated, and he scratched his eyebrow. “Just three more years…”
Max nodded again, pretending to be happy, to at least look happy, but he knew that he was failing miserably.
Just three more years…
Three long, agonizing, lonely years…
Three years spilled, wasted on this useless tossing on the seas…
It certainly wasn’t boring, but he longed to see Mother again, or Father. He even yearned to see Isabel, his sister, again, despite of their usual bickering and rows.
His crew was watching them, inquisitively, he knew. He could feel their stares burning his back, and he could hear their silent mutters, unspoken rumors about his past. He momentarily wondered if he was getting paranoid, but decided that they were murmuring about him. About him and his past.
A past that he had tried to leave behind so desperately, leave behind by any means. A past that would keep following him, for eternity, a past that would always find its way back to him.
“Are we leaving tonight?” Michael questioningly asked him, his voice unusual soft and emotional, and Max knew that he was already expecting an affirmation.
After one last glance at England, his native country, his home, and its beautiful shores, Max nodded. “Let’s go,” he replied, his voice just as soft as Michael’s had been.
“Lift the anchor, and prepare to leave!” Michael exclaimed, ordering the crew to get the ship ready.
The seamen whispered their last suggestions, suspicions about their Captain’s past, and then hurried themselves to their posts, ready to fulfill their duties.
Michael placed his hand upon Max’s shoulder and softly squeezed in it, a rather intimate gesture, which the crew could easily take incorrectly. He had already heard rumors about the reason why Max disapproved of the seamen’s usual trips to pubs and other dubious cafes filled with wantonly women and cheap whores.
His friendly gesture could be interpreted in very wrongly, but he decided that it didn’t matter, knowing that, right now, Max needed all the support he could get.
“It’ll be over before you know it,” he said, almost sounding like soothing a little child.
Max looked into the distance for a little longer, and then nodded fervently.
“You’re right,” he determinedly replied. “What’s three more years compared to a life time, right?” he asked, and he inquisitively looked at Michael.
“Just three more years. It will be over before we know it.”
“That’s the spirit,” Michael smilingly responded. “Just three more years, pall, just three more years.”
I know that it's short, but I'll try to update a little bit more often, okay?
Please, don't forget to review!!!
|posted on 20-Feb-2003 4:01:28 PM by Anais Nin|
Thnx for the fb! I'm very busy writing the nxt chapter, and maybe, just maybe, I'll manage to post it 2-morrow, b4 the move...