Title: Bellamy and Boy
Author: meowbooks (of course)
Rating: G
Characters: Captain Bellamy, Elizabeth
Word Count: Summary: A fic on Bellamy for
sunrise_sets!
Bellamy and Boy
"Name?" asked Captain Bellamy inking his quill. The youth bit his lip and looked at the brim of his large straw hat.
He cleared his throat, but his voice still wavered,"Ah...Wi-Weatherby Thatcher."
The corner of Bellamy's mouth curved slightly as he recognized the tone of a boy trying too hard to achieve what he percieved as the sought after deep, throaty voice men were suppose to have. The boy was already looking a bit worried.
The Captain of the Edinburgh Trader decided not to mention it.
"...oh, and she's probably naked." Bellamy was a practical man and a practical man knew the men wouldn't search for the girl without an incentive and his purse wasn't equipped to offer such a thing. The men took to the task more enthusiastically than he had ever seen them.
Particularly Weatherby, he was skinny, mostly quiet, and so far hard working.
It wasn't his watch, but accounting for everthing he owed to the Company had become more tiresome with the tightening restrictions and he needed a break.The deck was quiet aside from the creaks and calls of the Lady Trader who wondered why her captain was wandering so late. Bellamy spotted Weatherby gazing out from the port side rail. "Good evening."
Weatherby jerkily turned to acknowledge the captain and smiled faintly.
"I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's quite alright."
"Loved ones waiting out there?"
"I hope so..." sighed the boy.
"You'll see them soon enough."
Bellamy drummed his fingers on his desk. He stood as Samuel entered the cabin. "It's been two hours, sir. If they meant to come they would've by now."
"I suppose you're right." He pushed his chair in and ran a hand through his gray hair. "Give the order. I'll be out soon."
Ah, these things were to be expected. The kinetic energy and allure of Tortuga was quite a bit to resist. He shuffled some papers and filed them away in a drawer. Pulling open another, he pulled out the log and turned to a fresh sheet. He listed down the names of the deserters. When he came to Thatcher, Weatherby he stopped, a bit surprised. He hadn't seemed the sort. Weatherby may have been reserved and silent, but he had been one of the few Bellamy hadn't had to bark at for shirking his duties. Best of luck to you, boy.