#like she wanted pirates to become pardoned to be traders and they could do that without england and its whats happening

[hauntingblue]

Today I dreamed that I was in a ship with Anne and Eleanor and Anne got killed by her and I went insane with grief ajdjaksjk

[honestgrins]

Adventurous || Klaroline

Bill Forbes can’t let his daughter marry a pirate, especially not the worst of his kind.

.

Caroline stared down at her plate, half-heartedly pushing roast vegetables no sailor would be rationed while at sea. The ship rocked beneath their dining table, but that was hardly what made her queasy. "I thought I was being helpful," she pouted. "You asked me to befriend Rebekah so as to endear our family to Governor Mikaelson. I did that, yet you're sending me away."

"You know I only want what's best for you." Her father sounded tired, and guilt only twisted her stomach further. Bill Forbes had never wanted to drag his family into the business, but it became necessary when Liz died, leaving him to raise their daughter in the midst of building his reputation as a respectable merchant. Since finding success in the Caribbean, however, young Caroline had been exposed to far more of the world than he'd hoped for her. Her safety would always be his priority. "You've kept my house for longer than you deserved, precious. Now, you deserve to keep your own, and I think you'll like the Lockwood boy. His father and I have worked together for years, and you'll be back home in Virginia."

Roughly pushing her chair back, Caroline paced the length of her father's cabin. Of all his ships, Elizabeth proved to be the best for personal travel, especially when bringing her along. Their quarters were generous, allowing her to expend all her angry, nervous energy. "I barely remember Virginia! You're just leaving me there with a stranger, who is to be my husband."

Bill squeezed his knife, though he didn't rise from his seat. "We're lucky to find you a decent husband at all, Caroline. You'd be wise to remember that."

All the air rushed from her lungs. She felt wrung out, nothing but shame left clinging to whatever remained of her. The independence granted by her father's business had made her bold, too bold. Sneaking her lover into her bedroom was daring in the first place; allowing him to stay the night had been utter foolishness. The household staff was loyal enough to her not to spoil their secret, thankfully. Rumors of the Klaus Mikaelson falling under her spell, however, managed to reach Bill's ears anyway, the dishonorable nature of his intentions to be assumed as fact - her own intentions and feelings be damned.

With a deep breath, she instead found a rage that had long built within. "I will not keep apologizing for loving him," she finally said, her tone cool and even. "I let you confine me to the house, I let you insist I accompany you on this trip, but it's not enough. You didn't bring me to keep me away from him, you brought me to send me away altogether. Even from you."

Pain filled his expression, and he looked nearly torn. "If I could keep you home, I would," he swore quietly. "Our position on the island has become untenable."

"Because Klaus wants me to be free," Caroline accused.

"Free to embarrass yourself and ruin both families with your...affair."

She shook her head, almost frantic. "Because he loves me! Because he wants to show me the world, because he knows I'll never leave while you need me. Clearly you don't, or else why send me back to Virginia?"

"A pirate feared throughout the sea has staked a claim on my daughter," Bill seethed. "I don't intend to give him the chance to avenge that claim and leave you in the crossfire." When she opened her mouth to argue, however, he raised a quelling hand. "He's a reprobate and vicious man, Caroline. Surely, you understand why I secured you a safe home and a kind marriage far from him."

Despite the pleading words, all she heard was condescension and judgment. "You don't know him. He's spoken to you once and your mind is made up."

"A murderer and a thief dared to ask for your hand over tea in the governor's parlor, as though the whole island wasn't aware of their strained relationship or his own crimes against my colleagues and friends." Leaning forward, Bill pointed at her with his knife. "Whatever you and his sister planned for his redemption, it won't work and I refuse to let him cow me into submission."

A terrible understanding dawned on her. "You think he wants to use me against you," she realized. "A pawn to keep you under his thumb."

"Governor Mikaelson favors me among merchants, your pirate has taken notice. Involving himself in my business and some particular dealings would allow him to destroy his father - politically, financially, and essentially ruin the man."

"Good," Caroline spat, her arms crossed defiantly. Even if she'd liked the governor from their limited interactions - and she didn't - that goodwill was easily cut down by the stories Rebekah had shared and Klaus only alluded to with dark eyes. Had her father managed to include her in his business, she would have made her opinion on the man very clear.

Thankfully, a knock at the door interrupted whatever character reference Bill might have argued, and they both turned to find the Elizabeth's captain in the threshold. Over the years, Caroline had come to consider Enzo a friend, which made him agreeing to bear her to Virginia a betrayal. Well aware of this, he had taken pains to avoid her on the first day of the journey. She glared at him, and he grimaced before facing her father. "Begging your pardon, but a ship approaches. Fast. There are large cannons clearly visible, yet they've made no attack."

"Yet," Bill reaffirmed with a tired, resigned look.

Enzo’s gaze flicked back to her, and Caroline felt her heart race with anticipation. “It appears to be The Rogue, sir. I don’t relish our chances against Klaus Mikaelson, even if we weren’t running a skeleton crew."

It had been a rather hasty voyage, with little actual cargo to stow or protect on board. Speed was of the essence, and they’d left port as soon as the sails could be raised and managed. Few would challenge a rig without valuables onboard; apparently Klaus was one of them - though Caroline could argue that Klaus found her person to be very valuable.

Sighing, her father pinched the bridge of his nose. “What would you have me do, Captain?”

"There's a small chance we could outrun them if their current pace slows to meet us and we catch a favorable wind before they do," Enzo offered without any of his usual bravado. "Otherwise, we allow the ship to be boarded and hope for a polite negotiation. At worst, he sinks us all."

"He wouldn't do that." Caroline ran to the door, slipping past her father's grasping hands to storm out to the deck. Her head whipped from side to side, only to find an anxious group of sailors awaiting orders and staring at a break in the horizon. With a tight grip on the railing, she could feel her heart pounding. "He wouldn't do that," she said again, her voice a mere whisper as she tried to convince herself.

Klaus Mikaelson wasn't a good man, she knew that. Every story she heard would be worse than the last, blood trailing behind him at every dock. The Rogue and its crew of brigands were infamous for stealing an empire and enforcing their pirates' code on less honorable - yet somehow more respectable - traders. For all the proper training her father tried to instill in her, Caroline always adored the image of a life at sea. None seemed more romantic than that of a pirate, the raw freedom of it all so tempting.

As she grew up, however, her responsibilities grew as well. Freedom was all well and good, but someone needed to keep the house in order and ensure their family was above reproach. Oddly enough, it was her father's suggestion to create ties and affection with the governor via his daughter that led her to crave freedom once more.

Her nails scraped at the salt-worn wood, the ship in the distance appearing slightly larger with every minute that passed.

"Sure you know what you're getting yourself into, gorgeous?" Enzo had managed to sidle up next to her without her noticing, her focus utterly absorbed by the thought that Klaus was coming for her. "If we don't run, you'll end up on that ship. Maybe for the rest of your life."

A smile lifted her lips. "A girl can dream," she answered wistfully.

One afternoon at the governor's estate, Rebekah had waved off a turn in the garden, claiming the sun was too much for her delicate skin. Caroline, unable to help herself, eagerly enjoyed the chance to explore without a chaperone. She'd pretended to be surprised when she found Klaus lounging beneath a tree, laughing when he pulled her down to enjoy other explorations. They later basked in the warm light, her left hand tucked into his shirt, just over his heart.

"What's it like to sail wherever you want?" she had asked, curious. "How can you even decide where to go with the whole world before you?"

His fingers had brushed over her back, gentle at the loosened ties of her corset. "The whole world is before you, too, sweetheart. All you have to do is decide you want more of it. Then, you take it."

She had chuckled and propped her chin on his chest to meet his eyes. "And if I wanted more of you? These stolen hours are lovely, but few and far between."

"I'm here for the taking," he'd vowed, his grip on her tightening as he reached for another kiss.

Smiling against his lips, Caroline had wanted to believe him - that he could be hers. "I thought you were the pirate."

"There's nothing a pirate loves more than enticing another to join the crew." Another deep kiss had distracted them for a long while. "Once you're on my ship, I'll take you wherever you want."

"And I'll be the captain's mistress?"

He'd smirked, kisses turned sweet. "You'll be the captain, and I your most devoted servant."

And his ship was there, racing on its way to her.

"Caroline," Bill said in that disappointed tone of his, approaching her from behind with arms crossed. "Whatever he's promised you, whatever it is you're hoping for, it will only end in heartbreak and danger. You cannot risk our family like this, not for him."

The sea breeze on her face smelled fresh and wild, and she could almost pretend she were a bird soaring above them all. To be so light and joyous and free, everything her father was trying to take away from her. "I can do whatever I want," she grinned. "Klaus helped me to see that."

But her father scoffed. "Of course he did, because he's convinced you that you want whatever he wants. Convenient, isn't it?"

"He asked me to marry him," she pointed out, breathless when she could finally make out shapes on the other ship's deck. People. Him. "Even if it's all a trick, he needn't go to such lengths."

"So he can trap you and our family into furthering his interests, Caroline. I raised you to be smarter than this!"

She pursed her lips. "To me, it seems I'm getting married regardless of the outcome. You lose me anyway. Why shouldn't I choose the path that might make me happy?" They stared at each other, both too stubborn to look away first.

Enzo coughed, clearly uncomfortable. "Sir, it's time. What course of action would you prefer?"

Pleading with her eyes, Caroline still refused to beg aloud. She watched as her father took in the serious lines of her face, his own conflicted for the first time since she'd challenged his plan. Two deep breaths, and that conflict gave way to a sad calm. "If she's right, there's no use running if he intends to catch us, however long it takes. Drop anchor, let the pirate prove he can board peacefully. That he means us no harm, outside of stealing my daughter," he muttered to himself.

Caroline gripped his arm as Enzo moved to instruct the crew, and she squeezed when the ship noticeably slowed. "Thank you." He covered her hand with his own, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "He's not stealing me."

"No," Bill gravely agreed. "You're going of your own volition, which is much worse."

If he had slapped her, it might have hurt less. She backed away on instinct, only for him to hold her more tightly. "Trusting a pirate is going to get you killed, Caroline. I won't be able to protect you. Not from him."

It wasn't worth spitting the bitter defenses back in his face; he wouldn't be swayed. Her heart broke knowing he would never forgive her for this. She thought they had done things right, she and Klaus. They fell in love, made promises to each other. Klaus had even gone so far as to try and get her father's blessing to marry. How many pirates would do that for a woman they'd already bedded? It had to be real.

It had to be for her father to look at her like she was lost to him. Her eyes burned with tears, but she refused to let them fall. Instead, she looked out to watch The Rogue approach and prayed she wasn't wrong.

.

His grip tightened on the rigging with only the speed of the ship to comfort him. Elizabeth wasn't much of a conquest on a normal day with smaller than average cargo holds meant for travel supplies and more living room for passengers. She could be quick when she wanted to be, but the main sail had slackened considerably, and Klaus released a pained breath as the gap between them closed. 

He'd caught her. If he didn't think Caroline would run away by her own desire should he try, he might never let her out of his sight again. Oh, but that was a fight to be had when she was back in his arms.

The crew had given his tense form a wide berth as they rushed around him, pushing the ship faster than was probably wise. When their captain had called them to action, he was near to growling at them until Marcel swept in to give commands. "Let me worry about the sailing," his first mate had reasoned with him. "You work on how to get your girl back without bloodshed. From what you've told me, the lady isn't likely to forgive harming her family." 

Unfortunate paternal affection aside, Bill Forbes had proven to be a surprisingly difficult adversary, one that couldn't be borne for much longer. For her, Klaus was willing to negotiate the boundaries of her father's influence with generous terms; since learning of his plan to dispatch her to a husband in Virginia, however, that spirit of generosity had been greatly tested. A part of him feared he'd kill the man on sight, had given Marcel his pistol and knife as a precaution. The rest of him couldn't climb from the horror of what might have been had Rebekah not alerted him to the plot.

As often as he'd offered his sister a chance to escape Mikael's house, he couldn't help but to be grateful that she'd resisted so far. Otherwise, she wouldn't have overheard their father complaining about losing Bill's input for the month it would take to deliver Caroline to Virginia. Worse, he might not have met Caroline at all.

She'd looked beautiful the day he first saw her, peering through the titles in the library. Embarrassed to have been caught, her cheeks had flushed a pretty pink, clutching the hand that had been gently stroking spines to her chest. But then she frowned upon seeing him, eyes tracking down to his worn clothes and dirty boots. She greeted him warily, excusing her own presence as a guest of Miss Mikaelson.

"They're not my books, far be it from me to forbid you from them," he'd teased, helping himself to his father's rum. "Bekah doesn't usually take to others, I'd hate to scare off a new friend."

Her eyes had narrowed. "You're awfully familiar. One of her brothers?"

He smirked behind his glass, giving her an appreciative glance. "Smart as you are fetching, though I'm quite sure my name isn't welcome in these hallowed halls."

"But your person is," she noted with some humor. "What's your profession, Mr. Mikaelson, if I may be so bold to ask?"

"Bold, indeed." He'd always liked that about her; Caroline was a curious one, a question on the tip of her tongue and just itching to ask. Whenever they were alone, she never bothered with polite rules of conversation, instead following her own train of thought until she knew what she wanted to know. "I'm a sailor by trade, Miss...?"

Staring at him with fascination, she seemed to light up with an expression he knew well. Many of his men wore the same one as they looked out on the open ocean for the first time, or when they noticed some new creature crashing against the bowels of the ship. She held a spirit of adventure in her heart, kindred to his own. "Oh, that must be so exciting. My father runs a merchant's fleet, but I don't get to sail nearly as often as I'd like. Even less now," she added, her smile fading.

Klaus hadn't liked the despondent weight that fell over her, but Rebekah burst in before he could ask about it. "Nik! Father will be home in an hour, but you must stay for tea. Ah, I see you've met Miss Forbes," she rambled on imperiously, leading one of the servants into the room. "We'll need an extra place setting, Marie."

He gave a mocking bow. "I am at your leisure, dear sister." Turning to his new acquaintance, he dipped his head more graciously. "Miss Forbes."

"Caroline," she insisted with a quick dip of a curtsey. Despite the sheen of manners, he could see the wheels turning in her mind, and his grin widened at the moment of realization. Her voice turned faint, but not with fear, he was pleased to note. "You're Niklaus Mikaelson."

Rebekah was quick to correct her, "Captain Niklaus Mikaelson."

"A captain." Caroline had nodded, and he could hear what she really wanted to say. A pirate.

"So you've heard of me." His smile turned predatory, showing off his teeth like he was baring fangs. "Fantastic."

But Miss Caroline Forbes wasn’t one to be cowed, no matter the many horrors attributed to his ruthless greed. Instead, she asked voraciously about his travels, the places he’d been that she could only dream of. In one breath, she would condemn the violence he’d committed in a nearby port and wonder at the people he’d met there. Her life had become increasingly sheltered as her father’s business grew, many of the characters he cavorted with not unfamiliar to Klaus in his own work. 

Rebekah had bored of the conversation quite early, choosing instead to design her next dress while they argued the merits of one bounty over another he’d collected. Lively and fierce, Caroline had no qualms in disagreeing with him, sure his opinion of her wouldn’t hold much sway in the marriage market she and his sister had dreaded together. 

Though he had fun teasing the prospects bandied about for Rebekah’s hand, Klaus was confident he could gather the funds necessary to bribe their dear father to hold off any negotiations she wasn’t thrilled for. After all, Governor Mikaelson was a proud and ambitious man, and there would always be a better offer down the line. 

When the topic was Caroline’s intended fate, amusement was the last thing on Klaus’s mind. No amount of money would lend him sway with Bill Forbes, a man determined to hate him and everything he represented. Holding his daughter hostage was a card the man was all too thrilled to play if it meant keeping her away from a pirate - even if that pirate would do anything to have her.

Even though, against all odds or reason, he loved her.

His love could have been married across the ocean before he had a chance to say goodbye. A paralyzing rage bled through him at the thought, and it wasn't eased by the fear Caroline was a more willing participant than he assumed. She’d never hid the duty she felt to make a safe match, if only to stop her father worrying after her. With the right husband, her life wouldn’t have to change overmuch. An absent father had left her rather independent, marrying another merchant or even a rising Navy man would lend to a similar freedom should he permit.

“And what’s to stop me from seducing the mistress of the house while the poor sap is away?” Klaus had teased that first time he’d stolen into her bedroom, eager to tempt her out of her dress. It wasn’t love yet, not for him, but it was a desire so strong that even the possibility of being shot upon discovery couldn’t force him to behave - not with her hair falling in soft waves down her back or the enticing length of her legs as he slowly lifted her shift. 

She scrabbled at his back beneath his shirt, just as eager to taste him and the rebellion he offered. “The mistress herself, I trust,” she flirted, though reinforced her point with a dig of nails into his skin. “I wouldn’t want to dishonor my husband, after all.”

Hesitating ever so slightly, Klaus forced a huff of a laugh before distracting them both with a well-placed hand between her thighs. The thought had haunted him long after he left her sleeping peacefully, that she would be tied to some other man, to whom she’d make promises for the rest of her life. There would come a day when he might slyly glance her way, only to find her watching a husband she called hers.

Over time, he realized why that image bothered him so much.

And now that she was his, well and truly his, Bill Forbes thought he could tear them apart. But he’d caught them; Klaus could finally see her on the deck, eagerly leaning against the rail. Caroline was always eager, the implicit danger of the ocean beneath being half the fun of it. His heart pounded with how beautiful she looked, her hair flowing loose in the light wind his sails caught, bringing them together.

Impatient and fuming, he climbed up into the rigging and tugged one of the ropes that seemed long enough to breach the distance between ships. A few sailors milled about the Elizabeth’s deck, though none seemed to be prepared for a fight. No weapons were drawn, in any case, and Caroline wasn’t being held back. She only smiled up at him, relief and love clear in her eyes. “Marcel,” he called out.

The men barely looked up from their efforts to prevent a collision, and his first mate shouted back without a thought. “Go!”

A firm grip on the rope and a deep breath was all Klaus needed to let his weight carry him from the Rogue, his legs strong as they absorbed the impact onto the other ship, like he had a hundred times before. As a pirate, Klaus had learned to be prepared for the fight - even a peaceful boarding could turn nasty fast. He was lucky, then, that Bill Forbes recognized defeat and didn’t try to kill him anyway, because Caroline launching herself into his arms wiped every threat from his mind. Instead, he squeezed her tightly, desperate to believe he would get to keep her. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassured them both, murmuring it over and over in her ear. “You’re safe.”

“You came,” she cried into his neck. Her arms clenched around him, nails digging into his worn vest. “You came for me.”

“Always,” he promised. His grip wouldn’t slack, and fingers carded through her hair without permission. Still, he lifted his eyes to her father, enraged in his own right. He couldn’t hurt the man, not without hurting Caroline as well, and the quarrel seemed moot if the Elizabeth had given up the chase. “I meant what I said,” he nodded as he invoked their last meeting in the governor’s parlor. The attempt at appearing respectable had only deepened the contempt in Bill’s eyes, despite the more than generous offer of a loving marriage for his only child. “She will want for nothing, and all I have and am will be hers. Is hers already.”

Pale and shaking with ire, Bill wagged a threatening finger in his face. “The wealth of a pirate is short-lived and wasted on drink and whores,” he accused. “You’ll bring nothing but pain and suffering on my daughter, a pirate’s wife,” he all but spat.

Caroline finally lifted her head, but her arms only tightened around his waist as she faced what remained of her family with a stern glare. “A captain’s wife,” she corrected, nearly snarling. “Whether or not you believe it, I know he loves me.”

“Ruin,” Bill warned. “He will ruin you. He’s already destroyed any prospects that would have kept you on the island.”

“I don’t need prospects, I have exactly who I need.” She tilted her chin up to Klaus, and he swore never allow himself to dim the fire in her expression. He loved her for everything she was, for defending him when his own parents never bothered. For choosing him, time and again. “Marry me, Klaus.”

Her eyes flicked to the captain lurking on the edge of their group, a supposed friend of hers she’d mentioned once or twice. Blinking, comprehension dawned upon him. Klaus squared his shoulders, not letting her go for a second. “Captain,” he said in his politest tone, the one reserved for pestering Bekah in public or particularly testy parleys. “Might you honor us with your witness?”

“Please, Enzo,” Caroline added, her eyes wide with hope.

Wetting his lips, this Enzo slowly looked to Bill. “Sir...”

Caroline suddenly lurched from his arms, but Klaus forced himself to calm as she reached for her father’s hands. She was fighting for him. “I understand if you’ll never forgive me, and I even understand if you choose to disown me after this. Please,” she entreated, “please stand with me while I marry the love of my life.”

On his honor as a pirate, whose word was only as good as his actions, Klaus would be a husband she could be proud of - a love worth testing that of her own parent. When her watery eyes met his, his chest filled with a warmth that weighed him down in the best way. He felt grounded despite the rocking of the ship, settled in a way the ocean would never be.

It was how he first knew he loved her. He had put off a number of voyages to woo her, under the guise of paying his sister long neglected visits, only to spend more time with the pretty guest and her sharp tongue. Tumbling into her bed once - then twice - had been good fun, tentatively growing into an unfamiliar affection. The time came when Marcel had a line on new quarry, the crew restless to get back to the sea and fill their pockets again, and he didn’t relish leaving Caroline behind as he had so many others. 

Rebekah must have warned her, for she had clearly been expecting him when he climbed through her window, pulling him in with tender kisses and gently urging him back to her bed. With the hours dwindling, though, he reluctantly collected his clothes while she watched. “Wait,” she’d called, rushing to her desk wearing only a hurriedly fastened dressing gown. Pressing a sealed letter to his chest, she allowed him a soft kiss goodbye. “For when you can’t sleep.”

He never could the night before sailing, an affliction of overwrought planning and impending adventure that no amount of rum or tea could solve. Frowning in confused amusement, he slipped the paper into his jacket and left her with yet another lingering brush of her lips. 

How many other lovers had written him a message upon departure, Klaus couldn’t begin to count. Sweet promises of a home for him to return to, wicked plans for when he did. As the moon shone into his quarters that night, curiosity overwhelmed him as to which woman Miss Caroline Forbes would prove to be. Regardless of the contents, he was more than sure he’d loyally return to her all the same. 

Then he opened the letter, his smirk falling slack. She’d written nothing, merely touched the paper with her favored scent. He closed his eyes and held it to his nose, breathing deeply enough he could almost imagine her on the ship with him. 

And he slept peacefully, resolved to bring her along the next time - perhaps to never let her go again. Once they married, he'd never have to. She would be his.

His wife.

“No.” Bill’s spiteful tone was clear, and Klaus curled his fists at the way her face crumpled in response. Her father, however, felt no such compunction to offer comfort to his only child. “I can’t. I won’t. I might not be able to stop you, but I refuse to be a party to what I truly believe is the worst mistake you will ever make.” Ironically, he’d never seen the family resemblance so well until Bill trained a stern glare upon him.

Caroline rolled back her shoulders and stepped more surely between them, secure with Klaus at her back. “You’re wrong, but at least it’s my choice,” she replied, her voice calm despite the somber note of disappointment. 

Shaking his head, Bill tossed his hands in the air as he stalked back toward his cabin. He called out, still angry. “When you regret this, don’t ask me to rescue you!” A door slammed shut, leaving them on the deck with a chagrined Enzo.

"He'll come around, gorgeous. He always does," her friend offered, watching Klaus with a wary eye. "Still sure about marrying this one?"

With a low growl, he was relieved to have left his weapons with Marcel. He dropped his lips to Caroline's ear, trying to ignore the stream of tears running silently down her face. "We can head back to port, let Bekah handle arrangements for a more dignified wedding, if you'd like." His enmity with his father limited certain opportunities, but the Mikaelson name and the exotic treasures of a pirate would enable some social dignities. "It's up to you, love. Always."

Finally, she managed a wan smile, growing brighter by the second when she turned her face up to him. "You raced here to save me," she teased quietly. "A wife seems a nice prize for your efforts."

"Caroline."

Her hands lifted to cup his face, determination clear in hers. "I won't regret this. I want you."

"You have me," Klaus vowed. "Forever, I am yours."

"My husband." A weight appeared to lift from her as tears filled her eyes again, this time with a happier sheen. "Good enough, Enzo?"

Clearing his throat, this Captain Enzo barely covered a laugh. "By my authority on this vessel, I declare you married." They were kissing before he even finished, and he didn't bother to stifle his amusement. "All right, carry her off, Mikaelson. I'll get her things tossed over to the Rogue before you graciously leave my ship in peace."

Without looking away from his bride, Klaus nodded. "My first mate will be on hand for you," he said, sweeping Caroline up into his arms. His voice dropped as she nuzzled into his neck. "Ready to board, sweetheart?"

She laughed, a bright noise that hit straight to his heart. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

He took advantage of his hand placement to pinch her ass. "Your smart mouth is going to get us in trouble, I just know it."

"Only the fun kind," she promised. She furrowed her brow at the narrow plank Marcel had managed to fit between the ships, and Klaus felt her hold around his neck tighten. "Klaus."

Shrugging, he kissed her temple. "Where's the adventurous woman I married? Hard to see the world if you're scared of a life on deck."

Caroline winced. "It's the between I'm worried about, Captain."

Not wanting to worry her further, Klaus hurried across with all the confidence he'd earned over years at sea in far more dangerous circumstances. He landed hard on the Rogue, though his grip on her didn't waver in the slightest. "Ye of little faith, wife," he joked, enjoying the way she blushed with pride. "And I believe you're the captain now, with I your most devoted servant."

Her expression fell in utter shock, a pure delight shining from her eyes. "Wherever I want to go?" she recalled, wonderstruck. 

"As long as I'm with you." One close call at losing her was more than enough for one lifetime. "Where will it be?"

"The captain's quarters," she decided at once, gamely ignoring the hoots and hollers of his - their - crew listening in. "Then...everywhere."

Grinning, Klaus leaned in for a kiss, again earning whistles. "Aye, aye, love."

[britishassistant]

Tom Walker and the Devil

S’funny. Even after the whole business with the apple in Eden, even after Sodom ‘n Gomorrah and Herod and the Crusades and the entirety of the fourteenth century, the human capacity for willful blindness still amazes me.

Hm? Oh, don’t start on their supposed “capacity for goodness and optimism” again, angel. Look—look, don’t you dare start going off about the “ineffability of His plan” or I’m taking the wine and finding somewhere else to have a nice drink. What? Oh, so it’s proof you want, eh? Well, I was in the New World recently, and you wouldn’t believe the rate at which humans made deals with me, then tried to weasel out of them once they got cold feet!

Names? Well…there was Deacon Peabody, Absalom Crownshield… oh, and then there was Tom Walker. He was a riot, Tom was. The others, they at least had a reason for making deals with me; Deacon thought he was ensuring that his offspring would continue to live comfortably and have plenty of influence by swindling the natives out of their land, and Absalom became a buccaneer and displayed great riches to impress the mousy daughter of a fishmonger. Tom was only ever interested in how much money he had in his own pocket, a proper miser through and through! He never spent any money on firewood, nor on repairs for his shack, not even of food for his horse! …Yes angel, but the horse died eventually, so at least it wasn’t suffering very long. The only woman to ever marry him was just as miserly as he, and she had a fearsome temper! Attacked anyone who vexed her with fingernails and teeth and— …yes, angel that is how I got these scratches. Stop sniggering.

Anyway, going back to Tom Walker—I thought I’d told you to stop sniggering. Thank you. Where was I? Oh, right. I met Tom Walker when he decided to stray from the path, if you’ll pardon the pun, and managed to stumble into my neck of the woods where I was sheltering in an old fort the natives had abandoned. No it wasn’t very comfortable, I was miserable and wet half the time, but it had atmosphere, you see? Dark, dangerous, inconveniently hard to reach, really lets people know what they’re dealing with, doesn’t it? I even went through the trouble of starting a few rumors about it being a sacrificial alter to demonic spirits.

So old Tom sits down to catch his breath, and he manages to unearth a skull which he then kicks. Taking that as my cue, I appear, with my axe and half-native garb and dark skin all covered with soot and—what? No, I don’t know why I was covered in soot. It’s based off of what scares him, remember? Maybe he was scared of blacksmiths, or an honest day’s work. Anyway, we get to talking, and I show him this new system for remembering my victims that I created; I carve their names into a tree, the interior of which rots in accordance to how rotten their souls are, and I count down the days until I can collect them by hitting each tree with my axe until they die and the tree falls down. What? Oh, what d’you mean “poor, innocent trees?” Trees aren’t capable of moral action, let alone innocence or guilt! No, look—look, forget about the trees for a second, and let me carry on with my story, will you?!

Where was I…so I show him my remembering system (not one word about trees if you want to keep those feathers) give him the sales banter about how I’m responsible for all human evils, blah de blah de blah, and he guesses that I’m “Old Scratch” as they call my lot over there. We get to talking, and I mention that I know where the treasure of the pirate Kidd is buried and that only those in my favor can get at it—complete lies of course, anyone could get at the stuff, though there’s not much left to get at now—and Tom begins salivating. I mean, drool dripping down his chin and everything, the entire works. Of course he clams up a bit when I mention the conditions of the bargain being selling his soul. Of course, I’d sort of expected that; he’s a miser, and misers never want to give away anything that they perceive as having value to other people, even if they don’t value it themselves. No—no he didn’t angel, otherwise why would his soul be in poor enough condition for me to take an interest in the first place? Haven’t got an answer for that one, have you? Thought not. I tell him to go home and think on it for a few days and I brand him with my thumb as a sign of good faith and partly because it heightens the experience. No, he didn’t feel a thing, and besides it’s not like your lot are any less dramatic.

So I wait. The next day, to my surprise, a grouchy woman comes along at about twilight and demands that I give her the same deal I gave her husband. No, I wasn’t happy. What d’you mean why?! Because I’m meant to choose souls that will cause the most collateral generation of evil! Take Deacon Peabody for instance. He swindles those natives off of their land. Those natives then have to go find somewhere else to live. They don’t trust settlers anymore, so they may attack any lone merchants that they come across. That merchant, if he isn’t dead, is likely to be more surly and rude to his coworkers and distrusts the natives more than ever, so he drives harder bargains when dealing with them. And the cycle continues on and on until low-level evil accumulates into something really horrifying. Like Salem. Now, this only works if someone in a position of relative influence is able to do something that effects a group on a wide scale, and I ask you, what kind of influence does a housewife have in this day and age? Absolutely none. Forming a contract to get her soul when it’s obviously going down there anyway would be a complete waste.

So I decide to mess with her a bit, and tell her that if she wants to make a deal with me she has to bring me every portable thing she considers valuable in her house. Of course, she looks very put out about that, but she goes home and comes back the next evening with her apron laden with the stuff. I tell her to take it off and give it to me, which she does unwillingly. Then I go “see ya!” and start running. You should’ve seen her face!! It was hilarious. Practically priceless… yeah, it stopped being funny when she sprung on me like a mountain lion and began clawing my face off.

I didn’t even know what was going on at first. One moment she was standing there, the next she was mauling me! So I throw her off of me, but I didn’t really look where I was throwing, and she ended up sort of impaled…well, more like split in half by one of the trees’ branches. Oh, don’t give me that look! It was an accident and you know it! Why did the trees even have branches like that—obviously they need to look intimidating! Have you ever tried to make a tree look scary? It’s next to impossible! You’ve got to make the trunk all gnarled and knotty and the branches look like they’re curling down to grasp you! And—fine, I’ll get on with it. Well, since the body was just there and not really doing anything so I, uh, took its organs, and wrapped them up in her apron, and left them for Tom to find. His scream was pretty hilarious too, now that I think about it.

So a few evenings later, Tom comes back and agrees to the deal. We haggled a bit, him refusing to be a slave trader no matter what, funnily enough. Eventually we settled on him being a usurer, which he was very eager to start with. He started out small, creating a good reputation for himself and began to drive people to bankruptcy during a recession. The poorer the person, the harder his terms, and he was soon able to afford himself a fine house and carriage with horses to pull it. Of course, he let the house and carriage fall into disrepair because he was too lazy to pay for its upkeep. The horses starved, like usual. I, for my part, was just hanging around, waiting for the perfect moment to strike down the tree with his name on it. I made some deals with other mortals, even getting this minister to leave his congregation to become a slaver with the excuse that pagan peoples deserved a life of servitude to Christian masters. But none of them were ever as entertaining as Tom. He got extremely paranoid about me collecting my due. To try and trick me out of it, he became an avid churchgoer, praying louder than the pious, carrying around a small bible in his coat and keeping a huge one on his desk in his counting house. You should’ve seen that thing. It was bigger than a whole human baby. I measured.

Anyway, one afternoon during the dog days of summer, Tom was doing what he did best—turning away some poor sot who had made the mistake of borrowing money from him. But what sets this speculator apart from the others is that he’s persistent, and he eventually frustrates Tom to the point where Tom exclaims “The Devil take me if I ever made a farthing!” Those, of course are the words I was waiting to hear. I appear with a pitch black horse, and tell him in my deepest voice that he’s come for. He goes really pale, and his eyes bulge like a toad’s stomach, but there’s nothing he can do because his two bibles are upstairs and well away from me. I fling him onto the horse and set it galloping down the street at such a pace that his clerks have to stick their pens in their ears to dull the noise of hooves. The horse took Tom out of the town, back into the woods where he first met me, and bucked him off into a ravine that was the resting place of what remained of Kidd’s treasure. He broke his neck, and his body was never found, as a thunderbolt set the entire forest ablaze that night. When the trustees tried to take charge of his property, nothing was found except cinders and wood shavings. In his stable there were skeletons instead of horses and his great house also burned down. Such was the end of Tom Walker.

Hm? Oh, what d’you mean, this wouldn’t have happened but for me? Look, he and his wife were going down there anyway because of how miserly they were. All I did was provide him an opportunity to tap into his greater potential for evil. Even then, he took his job to extremes that my suggestions barely covered. If he’d wanted to, he could have just lent out money at a reasonable rate, since all usurers, good or bad, belong to my lot. He was the one who delighted in driving others to bankruptcy, willingly and knowingly. Sooner or later your people are going to have to open their eyes and see that maybe the Father’s precious little creations really aren’t so perfect after al—! W-wait, h-hold on a minute, angel, b-be reasonable and put the bloody holy water down—!