Chapter Text
The seas had always been my dream. To sail them, to explore them, to own them. I wanted all of it, and I wouldn’t dare share it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one who wanted them. There were a few others who had wished to tame the seas to bend to their will.
The ‘others’ name was Arthur Kirkland, otherwise known as the personification of England.
Both my brother, Antonio, and I hated him with a passion, and we have for a while. And I’m pretty sure that João (Portugal) can add to the amount of hate we have for the British privateer.
The sharp knocking on the door of my cabin - the Captain’s cabin - pulled me out of my thoughts, making me perk up from the various maps that were scattered on top of my hand-carved oak desk (like what wasn’t hand-carved back in the 1500s?).
“Come in,” I hummed in answer, rolling up one of the old maps of the Mediterranean. My hand cramped up halfway through from the planning of the next trip out to sea, which was supposed to be in a few minutes. I was just waiting for word from my co-captains.
The thick door creaked open, revealing none other than my first mate Lovino Vargas. My brother and I had raised him ever since my ex-husband Roderich handed him over to us. Little Lovi was such a delight. “The Tomato Bastard just told me to inform you that everything’s ready to go,” he stated boredly, leaning against the door frame.
Did I mention that he’s delightful a small part of the time? Usually when it’s just him and I? I guess not.
A small smile began to creep up on my pale pink lips. “Perfect. I’ll be out soon.” With that, I pushed my chair out from underneath the table and stood up, facing the dark-haired Italian.
“Well, just hurry. I don’t want to be around him anymore.” After those words, he left my sight, probably going to get a tomato from the kitchen in the galley.
I nodded, feeling the breeze flow through my decorated captain's cabin. There really wasn't much there though. Just my small ship bed, the desk and whatever was on it, my barrel of axes, and finally the maps on the walls of past explorations. Ah, the good days.
My dark reddish-brown curls flared out behind me as I stood up, wind catching in between the wavy curls. Time to go greet the crew.