Chapter Text
the wind whistled quietly as the tall willow trees surrounding the swain manor danced in the breeze. it was a fine day. the sun beat down onto the grass and pathways below that lead into the quaint village that stood at the bottom of the swain’s hill. the stark blue sky held not a cloud for miles creating the perfect backdrop for any artists new sketch. it was these types of days that you cherished the most although it made it somewhat hard to work in your military uniform. the long tailored coat and waistcoat as well as a frilly long sleeved blouse seemed perfect for rainy or chilling days but this was sadly not one of those. the cobblestone pathways were almost able to melt the bottom of your leather work boots which wouldn’t be ideal for chasing down crooks.
swain manor, your home, stood tall and proud upon a hill that overlooked the village below, ("a safety precaution” the royals had insisted when the idea was pitched). this made the home seem threatening although you knew it to be a place of laughter and joy, the locals would never be allowed to know what it was like inside the luxurious hallways of the manor, they would only ever know that the noble swain family lived there, the nobles that lived there to protect them from harm that could potentially come their way. however, there was never much danger as the village was peaceful, only a few small robberies happened, that was all.
-
the door to your bedroom closed with a light thud and a soft ‘click!’ from the lock sliding into place. nobody was allowed in there.
you walked down the long hallway towards your father’s office, admiring the individual paintings of the swain family. you stopped to stare at them, the large golden frames glistening in the rays of sunlight that emitted from the windows. your mother had insisted on putting the paintings in the drawing room but your father refused, wanting everyone to see every beautiful piece of artwork your mother created.
the first painting was of your father: lord alexander swain. the painting captured his greying hair almost comedically, swept over and styled different from his usual hair. the sun made his pale skin glow to the point where you squinted to see the painting correctly. your father’s eyes seemed too harsh to actually be your father, perhaps this is how your mother saw him before her death? a man purely of business, fighting to protect the village and family that he loved so much? the blue your mother had used seemed too light, it pierced through your skin and made you shudder as you glanced quickly at the military uniform portrayed in the painting, the exact same navy blue colour as your coat, the silver details swirling across the collar and sleeves. you pressed on.
the second painting was of your step-mother: lady eleanor swain. her beauty was captured in so many ways. her brown curls feathered over her pale shoulders and revealed just how boney she was. even in a painting, she seemed so sickly. her eyes were a forest green that matched with the dress she had worn on the day of the painting being done. the frills and ruffles were enough to make your skin itch like crazy, so much that you felt as if small bugs were crawling up your sleeves. you shook your arms in a hurry, moving to the next painting that was further down the hall.
the third painting was of your twin brothers: harry and anthony swain. both of them were sat with their bodies facing one another but their heads facing forward. even sat down it was easy to tell that anthony was taller than harry and that caused a fond smile to form on your lips. they had insisted on dressing the same and styling themselves the same for the painting to throw off anyone who looked at it but you knew them too well. the black hair and bright blue eyes looked the same to anybody else but the mole on one boy’s top lip told you this was harry and freckles across the other’s face meant this was anthony. the white button ups and hair would not throw you off. it made you miss them, you wished they would come home. you moved on.
the fourth painting was of your eldest brothers: daniel and thomas. these two looked nothing alike despite being twins so the question of adoption was always a frequent topic in the manor. they were truly twins no matter how many times your father had insisted they were adopted. daniel had platinum blonde hair in the painting although you knew it to look more dirty, his grey eyes were portrayed perfectly, it made you think he was a zombie even in the painting. thomas had the wildest brown hair you had ever seen and your mother had captured that perfectly, his eyes the brightest green you thought you had ever seen. you would never get tired of seeing their faces.
the fifth painting was of your sisters: lydia and ruth. the more you stared at the painting the more you realised you missed them. both of them had moved away once they had married and started their own families, nobody had seen them in years although postcards had been sent and the odd telephone call had come through. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at their eyes in the painting, they were the same lifeless grey as daniel’s eyes. their blonde hair had been styled to perfection when your mother had painted them and it showed, the soft lilac dresses they wore complimented their hair perfectly. the more you looked, the more you felt they watched you so you moved on.
the sixth painting was of your step-sister: felicity. you would never look at this painting long, you hated to see her bratty little face running around the halls so you weren’t about to look at how your mother had painted her like she was an angel. felicity had brown hair that always had a mind of its own although your mother had painted it as straight and tamed. her eyes always had a mean stare although your mother had painted them as large and innocent green eyes. the dress she had worn was a sickening pink that made your head buzz and stomach churn. you quickly moved.
the seventh and final painting was of you: general (Y/N) swain. you stared at yourself in the painting and the painting stared back. this is how your mother had seen you. you shook your head and sighed, looking at your (H/C) hair in the painting that swept past your shoulders, your mother had painted it so beautifully. your (E/C) eyes had a soft look, nothing like the harsh glare you normally wore. work made you tired, you were no longer allowed to see the world as you wanted, your innocence and purity torn away as you had to go fight to defend the royals. you thought of resigning but you didn’t want your family to be disappointed in you. taking one glance at the uniform your mother had painted you in, you turned and reached the end of the hallway.
knocking twice to signal your arrival to your father, you cracked open the door by an inch.
“father, it’s me. you wanted to see me?” your voice came out quiet as you stepped foot into the large office, not bothering to look around as you knew the wooden bookcases filled with files and other books that meant nothing to you, the sleek wooden floor, the large glass windows that were covered by maroon curtains, the same maroon coloured walls and the large crystal chandelier all too well. alexander looked up from the documents in his hands and offered a warm smile. “ah welcome (Y/N), i thought i would see you later. i’m glad you’re here, i need you to do something for me.” alexander set the documents down in a neat pile and stood up, picking up another document that had been on the corner of the desk. he walked around and handed you the file.
“some townspeople have been hearing some rumours from the next town over about ‘the pirate king’. i need you to go and find out anything you can about these rumours.” alexander returned to his desk and went back to work, not sparing another look in your direction. he worked too hard.
“of course father.” you mumbled and left the office as fast as you had entered, closing the door quietly. sprinting back to your room, you almost pulled the door off of the hinges as you searched for your weapons. fixing your belt, you put your pistol into its holster, sliding a short dagger into the little pouch next to it. on your other hip you slid your sword into its sheath, making sure it was secure as you picked up your favourite musket, the one you always took on missions with you without fail, and slung it over your shoulder, securing the strap as you left the bedroom and made your way down the hall and to the grand staircase. felicity tried to stop you, her whining growing louder and louder with ever step you rushed down. you left the manor with no words said.
-
the village was bustling with life when you arrived.
children ran around carelessly with their friends, screaming and shouting in joy as they ducked into alleyways and pushed into people, not caring if they harmed anyone. the marketplace was open down on the docks so that’s the first place you checked. as you walked you nodded towards people and waved to let them know you meant no harm and this was simply a check up.
‘the fruit stand has a crowd today, i hope mrs clyde is okay.’ you wondered as you stepped towards the large crowd at the stand. mrs clyde greeted you with a smile, quickly turning to serve the next customer. you decided to question people who were stood in the line, gathering small details on the rumours.
apparently ‘the pirate king’ was a children’s tale based off of a real pirate. this ‘pirate king’ was the ruthless ruler of the seas who fought anyone in his path and stole their riches whilst he was at it. the ‘pirate king’ was told to be at least 6’7, a very tall man, taller than your father, he had black hair and sharp blue eyes, one of which was covered by an eyepatch although it wasn’t known which eye was covered, not that it really mattered. the ‘pirate king’ had a kill streak of over two thousand people, even if they were innocent but that didn’t matter. his crew was just as fierce and feared as he was. some versions of the tale said there were over fifty men on the ‘pirate king’s ship whilst other versions of the tale said there was a measly four people on board the ship, one of those people being the so-called ‘pirate king’ himself. the ‘pirate king’ and his crew were on some sort of mission to assassinate the royals although that was probably false.
you scoffed. “they tell tales like THIS to children? that’s absurd...” the woman in front of you gasped and shook her head, grasping your hands quickly. she looked frightened. “you mustn’t say that! it isn’t absurd general swain, it’s completely true!” the woman was now shaking, looking over her shoulder every few moments. you rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away, taking the woman to the side to attempt to console her and calm her down. “ma’am with all due respect, i just can’t see how this tale is true. yes there are fearsome pirates out on the ocean but i don’t see there being a so-called ‘king’ of them.” it seemed you would be returning to your father sooner than you imagined to tell him the news. you could only imagine the look on his face when you told him of your findings. the ‘pirate king’ isn’t real and it’s only a children’s tale. the woman shrieked and hugged herself, staring with wide eyes at your face. “general swain you CANNOT say that! you really really cannot or else he’ll come find you!”
you wanted to laugh.
“alright ma’am it’s alright, please take deep breaths for me, okay? i apologise if i offended you, thank you for telling me everything you know.” you smiled and the woman flinched but you shrugged it off, moving to the next person who only repeated what the woman before had said.
anybody you asked told you of the ‘pirate king’s’ tale and his mission which cracked you up inside. however, you were becoming aware of the dark clouds that were suddenly rolling over the village as you asked people what was going on with this rumour.
as the last person began to tell you the tale of the ‘pirate king’, there were multiple shrill screams as people stopped and stared above the village, their eyes fixated on something in the sky. you drew your sword and looked up, your eyes widening and mouth falling open. it wasn’t a cloud that had covered the village in darkness, no, it was-
“PIRATES!”