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I rarely dream of anything, and I don't remember those rare dreams when I woke up. However, this time I remember a vivid fragment.
But I couldn't wake up.
It was an overgrown, unkempt garden. I saw it somewhere, but I don't remember where and under what circumstances. Opening the wrought-iron gate, I walked deeper along the stone path, which was so narrow that the honeysuckle growing on both sides brushed and caught my clothes. A strong gust of wind rose, thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance. The place has long been abandoned - I concluded, going out into a narrow round meadow, in the middle of which there is a drained fountain. The branches of plants twisted around the structure, sprouting inside.
The sky is overcast. From the place where I stopped there were two forks - straight ahead and to the right. As if instinctively felt the need to turn to the right. After a couple of minutes, I went out to the backyard of the house, which I immediately recognized.
The house I grew up in was right in front of me. Admiring the dilapidated building, indulging in memories, I did not immediately notice the people swearing on the terrace.
Mom and dad.
The last image of my mother, which I remembered and carefully kept in my head. It was a young blonde woman. She cried while her father screamed and threatened her. I remembered what was going to happen next.
A wave of the hand. A slap in the face fell on a small woman's cheek. I could neither move nor shout. I could only watch my father slam the door going into the house, and my mother, having sobbed a little on the porch and glancing at the window of my room on the second floor for the last time, turned and walked away into the very epicentre of thunder and storm.
She never returned after that.
»»----- ♛♛♛ -----««
Chapter 2. Can it get even worse than this?
A hard knock cheekily awakened Peter. He sleepily wriggled in bed. His head thoroughly ached, and his room was floating in the fog. A new portion of knocking finally brought him back to reality.
"What the hell is going on?" angrily cried the pirate, opening the door. On the threshold stood the owner of the motel. He raised his eyebrows with some surprise, looking at the half-naked captain with a revolver in his hand, aimed at his face. However, the owner was not weak and was long accustomed to such meetings.
"A bunch of ragged people are asking for you downstairs," he said calmly. Peter lowered his weapon and yawned.
"Tell them I'll be down soon." The owner nodded and left.
Parker dressed, fastened his sword to his belt and yawned again. Ten minutes later, he went down and looked around. He thought of visiting May, which had the tavern right across the streets, but he will have to postpone it. Apparently, with all these people around, asking will be delayed. However, who said we can't play complete arseholes and send them all away?
Oh yes, Peter knew exactly why they gathered here. The word of him causing a confrontation yesterday at the tavern must have spread around in the town.
"Parker!" yelled someone from the hotel hall. Looking all messed up, the captain lifted his chin, looking for the person who dared to call him by the last name.
It's not that he wasn't grateful to his parents, no. He wasn't thankful to his father, specifically that he didn't allow his uncle to adopt the boy properly since he wouldn't cope with this job. His father would often leave the child alone for many months and go on expeditions for the royal researchers. Or simply "Not your problem, Peter", as he used to call his whereabouts every time Peter asked.
That's when Peter got acknowledged with piracy. At six, he got on his uncle's ship for the first time. Around that age, Richard Parker goes missing, which caused various speculations going around the area. Many said he threw himself over the port because he couldn't afford to pay his higher society debts. Others said he was caught spying on the private occupation's plans of the throne, and Fogarty himself took care of him. One is sure - at six years old, Ben Parker and his beloved wife May Parker took Richard's boy under their custody.
Ben was himself the captain of the ship called "Power".
And in a battle against, Uncle Ben has died on the
His mood immediately changed when he saw the exact people he saw two years on the ship.
His crew.
His family.
"Lads!" he yelled back, showing them the biggest smile he could do. Bruce was the first one to get a hug. The old man was one of the original crew members of the initial "crew". Uncle Ben's crew. They were inseparable friends, and he knew Peter since he was a youngster. He swore to Ben he will be next to Peter whatever it takes. "Ready for another one, gents?"
"Yer' joking, we still have problems on the shore." Sam hurried to the counter bar next to the hotel stairs. They served his favourite beverage in the morning and this might be the only thing he could ever miss from Asterion. He wishes they go back to Asterion every time they are on the journey.
"Clint- wait... where's Clint?" asked Peter.
"And that's the problem," started Bruce pointing up his finger. "I suppose he left this morning to finish up his... business."
"Yeah! Great! We are not even gathered together, are we?" said Peter, while taking a sip of his drink.
"Talk about problems, have you seen Buck's hair? Cut the locks buddy, you ain't picking anything with that on your head mate." started Sam, throwing mocking glances at Bucky, while there were some giggles in the back. "I can see you're not happy that we came back, Buck. What happened? Didn't find the girl?"
Bucky's jaw clenched, "Did you see your wife too, Sam?"
The pirates burst out laughing. The whole crew was having a good time, now that they are partially home. Soon, some pirates joined them, making the most out of this wonderful day.
"Say that one more time you psychopath, I swear I'll stab you with this rusty knife." Sam looked him dead in the eyes, without any second thought of backing off. Bucky did not retreat either, making this "staring contest" one of the most intense on this island.
The crew was half enjoying the free entertainment, and half concerned about the consequences.
The host of the tavern was not having it though.
"I'm going to ask you nicely to leave. You cause too much noise here." Peter sighed and involuntarily rolled his eyes to the exit. He squeezed James' shoulder and gave him a Don't-Take-Him-Seriously look.
"Who even gives a damn about us?" asked Bucky.
"About you, specifically? Absolutely no one," responded Sam.
"My hair is still better than yours," mumbled Bucky.
Two old men sat by the nearest end, glancing them all over as if imagining themselves all young and handsome at once. "Ugh, this youth! No experience, but stubbornly sticking their noses into the affairs of experienced sea wolves." the first one had one patch and a bottle of rum in his hands, shaking it vigorously after the Avenger crew left the motel. "Anyways, what were you saying about the king again?"
»»----- ♛♛♛ -----««
"Since no new pieces of evidence have emerged, and no new unsolicited witnesses have appeared, then on the basis of all the evidence at the moment against the citizen of Asterion Steven Grant Rogers, the court sentenced him to be found guilty of attacking and or infringement of the royal blood under the seventh subparagraph tenth article, and impose him a sentence of life imprisonment or tortured on the rack." the judge pronounced his verdict, hitting a special stand with a small ceremonial hammer, thereby closing the case.
After these words, everyone present in the courtroom had a completely different reaction. Someone grinned, looking at the already prisoner, someone looked at him with genuine regret and someone with the most real hatred and undisguised disgust. Their beloved king was murdered. Another reaction wouldn't be allowed.
Before he would even step in this courtroom, with a wooden chandelier in the Scandinavian style, suspended on a hook exactly in the middle of the high painted ceiling, he was interrogated a few hours. The wounds and burns stung with pain. His joints ached. The limbs were numb and the young doctor had his thoughts scattered across his mind. He couldn't think straight; He couldn't put two plus two and solve the case that has been thrown at him - an innocent citizen.
And it's not like he couldn't think at that exact moment when the flames would devour his natural glint in the eyes. He couldn't think at all. It was exactly as someone took a part of his memories, buried them deep three meters underneath the surface and left them to rot.
And Maximon came to enjoy his first torture and looked at him with a glint of greedy anticipation in his eyes.
"It wasn't me!" Steven screamed hysterically at the top of his voice, but the case was closed and it was too late to prove anything. "I was set up!" he wouldn't stop reaching out to people who didn't care about these very attempts, because they had already made conclusions regarding this person.
"Serves him right, he's to blame..." the following words were heard somewhere off to the side, which is why most people immediately picked up such an attitude, starting to agree, and then completely pouring the man with another portion of groundless and deceitful insults for him, which he, in general, didn't deserve.
The Admiral ordered for the guards, insinuating that the culprit is behind the bars and wouldn't dare to touch him one bit. He casually checked his order, gently fixing the brooch on his emerald-coloured jacket. He did not tolerate competitors, and legends had long gone about his narcissism. Maximon struggled to follow the fashion adopted at court, taking out sketches of clothes and ordering them from the best tailors. Therefore, his appearance often caused ill-concealed chuckles in the company of pirates.
Few openly dared to insult him, though.
"Let me see him!"
"Your Highness, you're forbidden to enter this area-"
"I don't reckon the king of Asterion to forbid anyone from the royal family to visit the prisoner quarters." the princess cast a cold glance towards the guard at the entrance.
Steve was taken aback and quickly grasped for the jail bars. The doors were slightly opened and he could finally see her, at least for a couple of seconds. On one side he was thrilled to finally see her after what has happened. He wanted to have at least one person on his side, who he could rely on or at least to be heard. But on the other side, Lieve loved her father. She used to idolize him from head to toes from her early childhood. She used to tell Steve stories each time the king had taken her out to Wijotia, where there was this massive mountain and a forest nearby. The enthusiasm this child had when she saw nature in its flawless state was indescriptive. So cheerful. So passionate.
"I need to speak to him personally. Allow me fifteen minutes. I was his friend."
I was. That's what he was afraid of the most. Past tense. As if they weren't close for nearly two decades. As if this time was wasted in vain. People do not need to look for excuses - they do as they see fit.
"Make it ten." she recoiled as if hearing the monstrous voice again. And she was right. "I have some affairs to solve with him before tomorrow at dusk."
"Maximon, I know that it has been decided already, but I'm legally entitled to speak to him as long as I wish. He is a witness.
"He is a murderer!" the admiral spoke out loud all of a sudden. "He doesn't belong in the higher society. I need him executed,"
Silence. She was about to scream her lungs out, and still wouldn't be allowed to express everything she was going through. She kept her composure even when the admiral was admiring her all over, circling and barely touching her shoulders. The wedding was supposed to be soon after they close the mourning week in the town. He knew what he was doing, and still managed to keep everything settled for the "big day".
And all she really wanted for the moment was to talk to him. To explain to him how she really felt. To cry on his shoulder, exactly like years ago he cried on mine; When he had lost both of his parents when they died heroically in the war.
"Do it for your father, Princess. Don't let him down," the man slowly turned around and with a bare action of his hands, he made the guards patrolling the prison quarters move to the side.
Hoarse voices were barely heard from the "dungeon of hell". The princess shivered near the main entrance, and as if she was afraid to get attracted. Hundreds of glances were attached to her. Hundreds of abandoned souls spent decades behind these bars. Hundreds of prisoners who would give anything to be in the princess's place: Free among other inhabitants of the heavenly world.
But not everything is as vanilla as it seems. Sometimes even the freest have skeletons worse than those from the "dungeon of hell". The girl still stepped forward, not looking closely at the other gratings. She could see them begging her to open the damned cage. They were pleased with the fear they could cause. They were thrilled by it.
Only one girl was sobbing in the dark.
Lieve counted the cell she was in and looked around her one more time to see if there are any other "quiet" ones. The girl felt someone's glance over her and slightly rotated her head. She seemed exhausted; She seemed powerless. Like everyone in this world had given up on her, and Lieve couldn't but wonder "How did you get here in the first place"
The girl rotated her head back to the initial position, zoning out again.
In the hanging silence, deep in his own thoughts, Steven didn't hear the approaching footsteps. The Princess carefully went to the nearest jail bars.
"Steven Rogers," the princess started confidently, but only she knew how much her hands were shaking.
"I shouldn't hope for your belief, should I?"
"Be honest with me. I can take you out, just say you didn't do anything to him,"
"I give you my word." he looked her up in the eyes, hoping to see something in them. "I swear on my parents grave."
And she knew he would never joke around with such strong words. In a place like this, where convicts are starved or beaten to death, she would never let her best friend go insane here. Lieve looked on the side to see if the soldiers are still at the door.
"I felt my hand burning," she whispered. "Yesterday. It was burning. And once I took off the ring, it stopped."
"Please tell me what do you remember."
"I woke up because Morgan came into my room... she had a nightmare. After that, a maid came rushing into my room and said we have to meet our mother in the Main Hall. And they said what happened." she was out of breath and still looked scared. "What do we do?"
"I know they will find him. I want to you know, we will find him, okay?"
"They want to open to the public tomorrow. People will know that dad is missing. What if they bring you to the centre of the city?"
"I know they won't. They will execute me straight away."
"Then we need to act up fast. You need to run away."
"What about you? He plans the wedding and the coronation."
"I will slow them down." All the emotions faded into the background, paving the way for empty indifference and weakness. Lieve whispered as soon as she heard muffled approaching footsteps. "There has to be a way out of here."
"And there is." said the girl Lieve saw earlier. She moved quickly towards her jail room. The girl wasn't even going to ask how did she know. Her duty as the princess would be to interrogate the suspect and find out how did this jailbird found out potential secret passages.
But she would run out of time.
"Where?! Tell us where!" the girl behind the bars smirked and moved towards the princess. The dull light was filtering and once she was fully visible to the princess she saw through a tiny window all her apathy.
Red hair. Elysian green eyes. And blue fists from the cold concrete rooms the convicts were all kept in.
"Why would I help you, Your Highness?" she pronounced the last words slowly and explicitly.
"So you decided now is a good time to scoff me?" the Midgardian royal appeal sounded unpleasant coming from this girl.
And Lieve knew for a fact that the girl was pleased with the way she turned down the tables.
"What are you talking about, Your Highness," she chuckled and slowly approached the bars, even more, feeling the Princess's breath on her cold dirty skin. "That would be disrespectful,"
Lieve's head was packed with dark thoughts, and gloomy memories began to emerge. Silence looms in. It's oppressive, suffocating, and incredibly tense.
"I'll talk to Maximon. There has to be a way," she finally said. "To free you out of here. Harold will help you. He will..." the nods she gave him kind of eased off the tense.
"He will never prove my innocence," Steve spoke with a deep, soothing voice that sounded unbelievably calm, given the circumstances.
"You will not be hanged!" she said angrily "I promise you. Whatever it takes"
And she headed back to the warm walls of the palace, leaving behind a considerable urge to break down the jail bars and run away with her guiltless best friend.
»»----- ♛♛♛ -----««
There weren't many places in the castle Maximon used to visit. He was always scattering his thoughts inside his personal office in the cavalry quarters. It was a cool, spacious room. The shelves were long, hiding somewhere in the darkness, where the light doesn't reach. They seem to be endless and support the ceiling preventing it from falling.
Measured steps are heard from everywhere, as if dozens of people are walking towards Lieve at the same time, surrounding her in a dense ring. The air grows heavy with every breath as if it was filled with lead. The fire crackles lazily in the fireplace devouring the logs, and still giving no heat—cold blows from it, penetrating under the clothes and pinching the skin. The voices seem to grow louder, forming into ugly figures that only vaguely resemble human ones. With unsightly elongated limbs and contorted faces with pain and despair, they grow larger, reaching out to me as if they strive to grab and drag Lieve into the icy fire, but they fail once the admiral turns around from the window.
"Oh, Your Highness," said the admiral cockily. "What a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe your attention?"
"Let's get straight to the business, shall we? I'm not here to address any political matters. I want," stated the princess without looking down, trying to maintain the posture she had been taught her entire life. "I want to address you, the Admiral of the Royal Flota, Sir Maximon Fogarty,"
"I could be anyone for you, Your Highness," he smirked. "Although, I must say that a special occasion would..." he paused, looking mendaciously at Lieve's hands. "...bond us more."
The royal wedding. The day when the two royal figures will say their vows, promising each other at the altar the most sacred oaths. And also the coronation day when Lieve will kneel before God and get anointed with holy oil.
But every word directed towards that day pierced Lieve's body with lightning and having her believe in the most irrational thoughts.
Running away.
And that would be ludicrous. No ancestors ever ran away from their duties at the royal palace. Everyone, but her uncle Morgan - who despite the ultimate power over the four lands, the idyllic life and wealthy inheritance - chose love. Standing by his wife, a simple low-rank citizen with only a veggie store as her inheritance, he felt more empowered than standing on the throne. Now they share an exquisite cottage on the coast, and they couldn't be happier about the turn of the events.
Which cannot be said when the lovebirds would visit the palace. His wife, soon to be appraised as a lady of some unknown islands, is not really welcomed when she joins her husband royal affairs. Is safe to say that she does not enjoy his high position in society, but then she remembers that at the stake of choosing between wealth and love - he eventually chose her.
Lieve hid the gentle hands with the silk of her sleeve and put on a faltering smile. She used to enjoy training lessons set by her mother Virginia, where a grumpy old lady, dressed like she would pass away any time while teaching about the greatest poets of history, would tell her to smile before any men of higher society. To show respect and kindness. To show the morals a lady in the palace needs to have; the morals Lieve would need to show to the citizens once the crown touches meticulously her head.
Sir Fogarty circled slowly the princess, putting her in an uncomfortable position. And he damn well knew that this would make her feel nervous. Powerless.
She kept the composure well too. As always being in the spotlight, glanced appraisingly, been wandered in circles did not seem to be that disturbing. It would rather look pathetic.
Lieve looked him directly in the eyes, which you wouldn't say was a reckless gesture from a princess herself. You wouldn't know she felt anything, just by looking at the on the side. But she treeified. All the past events put a fingerprint on her conscience: The disappearance of her father, whom she worshipped all these years and loved from the bottom of her heart, the imprisonment of her best friend, who she couldn't ever believe would be in that place, the coronation which happened to be in a few days, and the wedding she did not wat from the start.
Her father. All she had left of him was the present for her birthday—the ring. Thinking about the situation the royal family has come across, it would be stupid to even think about her birthday event. She touched the ring, and then the emerald on it. The longer she felt the emerald's presence on her finger, the livelier it seems. The ringlets started to spin, and the lines appeared to dance.
"It would foolish of me interfering, my Princess, but thinking about the king's abduction is making me feel more overwhelmed. About you in the first place," the admiral said. "I know how dear your father was to you. I want you to know, we sent tons of messages to three other mainlands, alongside brigantines searching on the small islands. Tomorrow we are questioning the citizens, therefore the whole Midgard will know officially about the possible death of the king-"
"He is not dead!" snapped Lieve, grabbing the ring hurriedly. When she saw a glimmer in the admiral's eyes, she knew she crossed the line by raising the voice. "I mean he couldn't be."
"May I ask why do you think that, Princess?"
"I just... just think that the kidnappers would seek for something in return." she tried to gesticulate and obviously trying to prove a point. And not to him precisely. To her. "Ransom."
Enslaved by the old habit, Maximon walked around the office and thought out loud. "The time will come when you have to remember the old wisdom. Everything has its own time."
"Wait, what...?"
He locked his gaze to the wall with several swords on it. Some were simple daggers, and some were stilettos. A fainted light seemed to be reflected on them. It might have been the reflections of the candlelight on the walls. Its flickers filled the room with mysteries. He didn't seem to notice the two questions addressed to him earlier. He might have seen an opportunity instead. He meticulously extended his hand and touched the ancient metal of a sword.
An opportunity to do what exactly?
A tremor ran through Lieve's body, but to seem calm she just stood there quietly, not making any sudden movements. Just pointing nervously at her ring, and specifically at her emerald. She wanted to talk further on but hesitated. She was frightened and didn't even understand why.
Maximon tilted his head downwards, and without moving his head he smirked.
A chill enveloped the princess. The lights in the room seemed to faint, and she had a feeling it wasn't natural. Following her instincts, she took a step back, meticulously looking at the man's back. He appeared to be farther away now but still facing the wall. She suddenly felt a cold shudder running down her spine. She began to shiver.
The cold appeared afterwards. A reluctant feeling follows.
And at a stake, the princess hears a knock at the door—a tall brunette, dressed in all maid clothes, with a tray behind her.
"Sir Fogar- Oh, I apologise!" the girl accidentally spilt some tea at the entrance.
Maximon got distracted. And Lieve got free. The princess took the maid's hand and they ran out of the room, immediately regretting her visit at all.
»»----- ♛♛♛ -----««
Outside, the crew made himself at home, occasionally slashing their swords in the air. People were still gathered in their houses, occasionally glancing outside the wooden frame of the windowsill. Young ladies would smile at them, fully flirting with their remarkable energy. And no one from the boys really complained, on the contrary. They would send air kisses from the right to the left, showing their interest.
There was only one walking in the crowd with the hood on. Checking underneath for every single movement or maybe soldiers appearing. He carefully lifted his hood a bit and examined the rest of the people. Bucky didn't want to go to the city. Not after he escaped royal prison's cold hands and regained his freedom in the Avenger crew. There was only one reason why he went out of the dark—the possibility of seeing her again.
He looked up to see the hope he lost a while ago. It just turned out by itself: he would look up and notice in everyone the face he recognised; the soul he cherished. He would compare everyone with her: a similar vibrance of the eyes, maybe a radiance of the skin or smile curves. However, the colour was always the wrong one, the skin glowed the wrong way, and the curve never matched.
The nights he spent on the ship under the glowing stars were all waiting for this moment. Without her, everything lost its colours, the world turned black and white and his emotions disappeared.
The only fear the solemn Bucky ever had is that she would look at him and won't know who he is. It would torment him even more than looking out in the public eye for her.
"Put this down, man." Sam recoiled once he turned around and saw Bucky with half of the face visible.
"I thought you didn't give a damn about me."
Sam took out his knife, pointing at Bucky again, "If we see soldiers now, they would definitely check the one hiding than the rest of us."
He looked down again and Sam knew for a fact Bucky will get drunk again on the ship when they go on the sea. And why wouldn't he? He waited two years to return on Asterion and find her, only to find out she isn't anywhere to be found.
"We need to visit Eitri, he is the one in charge of the Avenger."
"I've done the supplies, captain. We should be settled for a few months," said Bruce.
"Good, good."
"I heard they are doing the checks on the port. It's better to keep ours hidden or to make sure no one reaches Avenger until it goes on the route."
"Why are they checking?"
"Supposedly something royal related. Apparently, someone from the palace went missing, I don't know the guys were talking at the tavern last night I didn't catch bits."
"Do you think it's better to sail it a bit sooner?" asked Peter and wondering about how much Eitri will ask for a renewed ship in a couple of hours. "Where is the whole crew?"
"They all spread around, to see if they find anything precious in the town so we can take it."
"I specifically said we don't have much time, and if there are checks by the dock, we would have to go earlier," said Peter angrily. And Goldilocks would come at dusk and find no one. "Buck, I want you to go through the supplies and stay in the forecastle until we disembark."
Avenger was already standing at the docks, braided like cobwebs with ropes and scaffolds so that it would be convenient for the carpenters to make repairs. In the last voyage, the ship received relatively minor damage, which cannot be said about the losses in the crew, so the work had to be completed much faster than usual.
It was a magnificent frigate. Its "nose" was decorated with a wooden spider figure, which was a specific requirement, Benjamin Parker required to have onward.
"Listen up! I want each one of you to go and help little by little," Peter observed them from the distance how each one of the crewmates went down to the docks. Peter watched the work for about fifteen minutes, periodically lifting up planks to help out the builders, then went to the shipyard master. The assistant escorted him to the office where a medium-sized man sat with sunken cheekbones and time-silver hair. He rose at the sight of the guest and left his personal desk.
"Greetings, Master Eitri. I wanted to see how is it going," said Peter.
"Well, we stick to the plan. According to the contract you yourself signed Mr Parker, the construction will go on slightly faster than usual. We have to repair the helm, the broken left sail, adjusting the parameters-"
"Can we shorten it all in a few hours?"
"I- I don't think this is an ideal plan, Mr Parker. We were thinking at least three days."
And the captain chuckled loudly.
"You must be joking." Peter took out a couple of doubloons and started cautiously counting them as if they are the most precious he had on him right now because they were.
"I'm a man of my word. Oh! And how could I forget the commission? We have the royal flota check in the dusk." the craftsman said, and he started to look through the papers anxiously. These checks must be tiring, as they always find something they usually confiscate or charge the noblemen for small mistakes with the way they keep their documents.
"Great," said Peter smilingly through teeth. "Marvelous!"
"Yes, they didn't give us the details, but they will check in case someone is illegally transporting people overseas."
And they have Bucky's things scattered across the forecastle.
Can it get even worse than this?
»»----- ♛♛♛ -----««
They reached a corner, where the soldiers couldn't see them. The girl was crying in silence, and Lieve quickly put a hand over her mouth. They stood like that for about five good minutes in respectful silence until they heard the muffled voices distancing.
But the maid became even more frightened. Lieve tried to steady her in one place, but she just wouldn't stay in one place. "Don't move!"
"You too." Lieve got startled.
"Steve, oh my days! You managed!"
"Shh!" the doctor whispered, "What are you doing here? They will activate the alarm any second!"
"I need to hide for a while. Maximon is planning something on the side, and I have to stay out of the palace if I want to delay the wedding preparations.
"What do you mean planning?"
She silenced.
"Harold said...we have to hop on a boat, and in the morning most of them will dock." the young doctor barely managed to speak properly. Every word he tried to silence as much as he can so that no one paid any attention to some three freaks in a dark alleyway. The rumours on the street could spread quickly, but the royal siren is even quicker. "If we go now, we won't get caught by the guards."
"She is in danger now too," said Lieve and started to look around to see any suspicious movements around. "Darling, look at me. It's okay..." Lieve tried to approvingly shake her head and put on the friendliest smile she could do. Even the tone changed slightly, but she wanted to be sure this girl knew they weren't any threat to her. "What is your name?"
"Mi..." the girl suddenly forgot the language she was speaking. She didn't know how she should approach a royal figure appropriately in this situation. There even was another noble personality present, which only meant double trouble. "Michelle Jones, Your Highness."
"Michelle, we have to get out of here. Do you understand?" Lieve stated to comfort her, while Steve was reaching out for some long rags handing down a rope next to a window. He tried to gently pull them down and wrap Lieve with one of them so that she would be better hidden while running to the docks. "Do you agree to come with us, Michelle?"
"I don't understand..."
"If you stay here, Maximon will come after you. Will interrogate you as soon as they see I'm gone; as soon as they see Steve ran away." She got the rag from Steve and tried to wrap it around her head. Lieve hid the mischievous locks that the wind dropped on Steve's shoulder and Michelle was doing the same with another rag.
"We are running out of time..." Steve whispered. "Now, or never, Lieve!"
The three of them passed a wooden ancient gate with spikes on it and hurried to get to the docks as soon as possible. Lieve saw a man running to the other side and constantly thinking about what could Maximon mean by "Time will come and you'll understand"
She tried to focus her eyesight in the nighttime but all she could see was Steve's back, running ahead of her, trying to protect his best friend from any intruders. Who is going to defend him, though?
The ship was enormous, having its sails closed and peacefully floating on the surface. The three looked for any sudden movement as they saw a perfect opportunity to hide in it. Two broad men stood by its side, constantly arguing over something.
"So yer telling me, Peter had the whole day to get the map, and now he ran to Phill to the other side of the island to take it? Right when we need to sail the fuck up from this godforsaken island?!"
"Don't be dramatic. He knows what he's doing!"
"Mr Knows-It-All, honestly Sam, tell I'm wrong this time, and I swear to the Sea Devil..."
"We are going to be fine. Everything goes according to the plan."
"Plan?! What plan? You had a plan?! Why do I not know about a plan, Sam?!"
The void pulled her into its embrace. It was the euphoria that subsided her will to comprehend all the emotions she felt right now. Steve was trying to calm Michelle while she had various panic attacks, the heart was pounding, and her chest tightened with horror.
And Lieve felt nothing. Fear prevailed over her. In desperation, she gasped for air, trying to find support on the floating ship. Lieve's heart was beating in temples. The energy was in full swing as they all three managed to get through these two men and sneaked aboard this massive ship. They altogether exchanged a few glares, hid behind the canons and sneaked into the cabins when She smiles broadly for the first time since... For forever, she thought. She couldn't imagine herself smiling without reason, and now the reason was inevitable.
Freedom. Something she didn't know she needed but always secretly craved for; She allowed herself to drop a tear out of joy.
From the fact that her story is not over yet.
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In all its full glory, the royal garden could take the breath away of anyone with its beautiful heavenly sparkles. However, since last night storm ruined most of the flowers growing up beautifully on the side of the king's statue, the maids were busy planting new beauties instead. The queen would regularly take her daughters in the garden. However, only one could assist her today.
Morgan was picking up the uneaten breadcrumbs left by the birds and threw them again at them. One of them was not fully appreciating the young princess's effort, though.
"Mommy, she's sad again. Can't we take her to live with us?" the thin childish voice distracts the queen from reading. She turns towards the little girl, leaning with both arms on the wooden bench and stretching her arms. The gaze of large blue eyes is directed somewhere into the distance, towards the forest, which ends with a rocky oceanic shore, and she trembles shallowly because of the coolness.
The wind got tangled in her auburn hair and unobtrusively created uninvited goosebumps all over her body.
"My baby, you know that birds love freedom," she put the book on the bench and carefully placed it so that the wind would not damage it, "She will be even sadder if we take her to us."
The little Morgan turns to her mother and doesn't move for a few moments, looking at her with suspicion, as if thinking about whether she should believe it or not. And the queen is in no hurry. She ran her fingers through her hair with maternal love, fingering soft strands and looking at the concentrated girl's face. The girl taps her chin with her right-hand index finger several times, looking for a long time and studying somewhere behind her mother's back as if she sees something invisible to others. She then crawls into her mother's embrace. The soft-touch of her blonde locks on the child's skin, her motherly tenderness caressing her hair, and the sweet smell of flowers around them...
"Mommy... daddy also loved freedom, and that's why he left us?" the little girl could feel how her mother's heart begin to beat faster and pulls back to look into the blue eyes opposite. "Are you sad?"
Small hands stubbornly erase uninvited tears that roll down to the chin and fall on the expensive dress, and the girl claps her long eyelashes in confusion, feeling a slight tremor of someone else's body. Women's arms hug her tighter and squeeze her to her chest. She sways from side to side, is silent for a long time, and Morgan doesn't dare to break the silence.
"He didn't leave, Morgan," a hoarse female voice makes the girl flinch. "Your father is watching us; we just can't see him. He guards us."
She pulls back a little, wipes the salty tears from her cheeks with one movement and smiles forcibly, as if this smile brings her pain, but not consolation. The girl frowns but timidly nods her head, only pretending to agree with the mother's words.
"Guardian, huh?" she tilts her head a little to one side and watches her mother, who nods in agreement.
"Our guardian angel is with us."
Her soft hand runs almost weightlessly through her daughter's golden brown hair. The girl yawns sweetly, but she is not sleeping, as if waiting for her mother to say something else. But she is silent. And Morgan doesn't wish to interrupt the silence, studying the native face of a woman looking somewhere through her. As if her thoughts are somewhere very far away and not here in the royal garden.
"Your Majesty?" asked a guard, approaching the two royal figures. Virginia startled and whispered to Morgan something. The girl immediately ran away. The queen stood up and moved closer to the guard.
"I must report, Your Majesty." the guard kneeled and didn't look her in the eyes, as he wasn't appointed for a direct meeting with the royals. The other guards showed from around the corner and didn't hesitate to kneel as well. One of them eventually said it - said the words Virginia Stark was not prepared to hear after her beloved husband's disappearance and rightful king of Asterion.
"Princess Lieve has disappeared."
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And the crew remained on the docks, having tasks after tasks completed. Peter Benjamin Parker - like a good captain as he is, with good time management skills - rushed to collect the map from Coulson and had his doubts about the journey they were about to go on. How are they going to understand where to go if the map is not fully explored? They needed the map points, and he knew no one knew his ways around maps as Phil Coulson knows.
He ran with all his might, as his life depended on that map. The stones were simply valuable; Peter himself did not have his predictions about what history they might share, all six of them. He sprang over some buckets and thrown waste on the road and loudly cursed the ones who foolishly would do this. Few people in the night would curse him back, but apart from them, there was nothing unusual. Peter could swear he saw some soldiers wandering next to the southern farms, which seemed peculiar at first. And then he saw them.
One... Two. Three?
Three figures emerged from the corner, running in his opposite direction. The pirate was not too bothered by seeing them run at night. Whatever it is they are doing did not concern the captain. Not even the third figure, who had the most rags covering her.
Anyways, the older man's cabin was not too far, and Peter accelerated once he passed the three figures. He couldn't be bothered to knock, but it was locked even if he tried the knob. "Come on!" said Peter.
The man was armed with a pen and fascinated by the details he had found. He bent over, examining the lands and the sea, millimetre by millimetre. Hearing the noises from the back, Coulson got startled at first. "Grant, if that's you, I will bite your head off-" Phil opened the door just to find Peter breathing heavily at the entrance. His running went running over the young boy, mumbling something incoherent. "Mother of God and Andrew the apostle! Peter, you interrupt my work once more, and these books will become lethal weapons."
Peter approached him nervously, throwing glances towards the window God-Knows-Why. He was scared that he would not make it in time; the soldiers will take the treasures they found over the last two expeditions, and the scariest things they could find would be Bucky and his belongings on their ship. It wasn't because James was entitled to be a faithful sailor, alongside the original crew and the newly made pirates, that recently joined the crew. No.
It mainly meant that the king, being an asshole as he is, conveyed a law that, quote, would go against the intruders that help a prisoner held behind the royal bars to be released against the law. And Bucky was indeed released against the law, yes, with the help of the Avenger crew.
If the soldiers would find an ex-prisoner's belongings on his ship, there will be a parade, which most likely will lead the entire crew to a trip to the prison.
Peter was visibly shaking, foolishly trying to convince himself that nothing of those mentioned will happen. He approached the busy merchant and leaned on his desk. "How are things going?"
"Taking all slowly," said Coulson, visibly confused by what was going on. He made his way to the map and retook the pencil. He quickly made a couple of notes on his sheets and rummaged through some old books laid next to him. A few moments later, he looked up at the visitor. "Do you want something?"
"Oh, well, you have five minutes to say goodbye to your precious map," Peter said, looking at the neat handwriting on the yellowish sheets of paper, wondering how fast he can come back to his crew.
Coulson exclaimed, clutching the map with both hands and all ten fingers. "Come again? I thought you dock tomorrow morning. I can't find the last stone on here..."
Peter glanced at the window again. There was nervousness in that glance as if someone will literally burst into Coulson's house and take him by force. The moon rose majestically on the night dark blue sky, and if just yesterday it shone with a blood-red colour, today nothing changed.
"But you did find the rest, right?"
Coulson took off his glasses and tried to blink rapidly. He was visibly tired from his research, "On it. I don't get some bits, but overall you have everything here."
"I'm taking it, Mr Coulson. I'm going to find them, with or without the last one."
Coulson sighed, "You are just like him... like Ben." He smiled warmly and, leaning closer, squeezed Peter's shoulder. Phil, acknowledging the dangers that await Peter, knowing what he will go through, and having no regrets about his actions, eventually hugged him. There was something in that hug. Something fatherly. Something that Peter did not reckon experiencing in a long time. Something that could stop the meaning of time itself just to be prolonged more.
Time.
Something Peter had to consider now.
Because the next thing he knew, he heard the royal alarm going on. He focused solely on his thoughts. Events in recent months blitzed in front of his eyes and formed a coherent path: Journey to Symkaria, the lawful land of pirates, Pietro's death, Bucky's rescue operation, the map and its remains. He couldn't go wrong this time.
The dead, fallen trunks of large old trees blocked the way. All his way back was literally covered with stones, which only complicated everything. Pits and a swarm of insects that wildly interfered, but the young pirate did not even think to stop. He was running guided by the seventh sense. It was like he had a swallow inside of him, brutally beating his lungs, begging him to run faster. He knew the crew would be in danger soon.
He felt his blood boiling in his veins with fear of losing his second family.
Eitri exited his premises and ran down to the builders. "They are coming! Stand aside," he yelled at the people standing in front of his building. "The royal flota check is due now! Prepare the documents, people!"
Ran by the port, Peter sneaked out to his crew, taking advantage of the chaos caused by the siren. They needed to disembark from the dock.
Right now.
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Morning came rushed in, and there were many soldiers at the dock. Like small insects, they were busy with the tasks assigned, while some of them simply tried to impress the captains to go aboard later on. Many would succeed eventually.
A giant with a battered waistcoat on his naked body and patched breeches came forward. A golden earring glittered in his ear, which shone like some forgotten treasures at the bottom of the Midgard ocean. So unreachable, yet so mesmerising. A solid mountain of muscles and impressive growth positively distinguished it from others. It made Thor looked like a sculpted statue from the gods and sent to petty humans for mercy. But he did not give the impression of dull rolling. On the contrary, the mind gleamed in the black eyes.
He looked for the described ship; He looked for a pirates crew who were rushing to go on the sea. He ruffled his hair, then nervously smothered it. With a leather bag nearby standing, the giant confusedly inspected the dock for any sudden movements. Any sings of Captain Parker coming to meet him. It was five in the morning.
And he couldn't find anyone.
"Son of a bi-"