Il Diavolo Sorriso (2)

[tristripe]

Title:  Il Diavolo Sorriso
Fandom:  Hetalia
Pairing:  Spain/Romano (Spamano)
Rating:  R/M - Very Mature

Summary:  Lovino is trapped by the pirate monster "Carriedo el Diablo" who's smile is just as dangerous as his anger. Despite the horrors that he experiences, Lovino has his own reason to survive, and he will not give up until he finds what he is looking for.

Chapter One:  Press-Gang



A/N: I am so sorry about the delay of this chapter…though it had been already written; when I was editing it I actually found A LOT of inconsistencies, and a LOT of plot holes. After editing I realized I had a 20+ page monstrosity. After mulling over it, I decided to break this chapter in half. Because of this, I promise to finish the other half of this chapter before I work on my other Hetalia fic (Monsters).

Around mid-january I became very, very ill. What is going on with my health is still pending…actually got a call from my doctor that she needed to talk to me regarding some blood work I did last week. NOT a good thing when doctors won't discuss your results over the phone. This was also a main cause for the delay in getting this chapter ready (I went nearly 2 week unable to lift my laptop or drive . ).

Anyways, here is chapter 2.

SPECIAL THANKS TO: SafetyScissors! Thank you SO, SO MUCH for your help!

Disclaimer: Hetalia and all characters are not mine. Languages other than English are curtsey of Google Translate.

Pairings: Spain/S. Italiy(Romano). Side pairing: Sweden/Finland.

Warnings: This is not a very nice story. Violence, brutality, and nonconsensual sexual situations. Lots of it. There are religious tones, especially in the first chapters. Read at your discretion.

Chapter Warning: OCs, violence.

Il Diavolo Sorriso
Chapter Two
The Emma

"My name is Abel De Kaizer, and I am your Quarter Master! That means that besides the captain, you answer to me! So stop your lily-livered blubbering and open your ears to the words I say, for I am not a man who repeats himself!"

Hands bound behind their backs, Lovino and his crewmates were separated into small groups, taken from the doomed Melody and transported to their assigned ships. Lovino and two of his mates were pulled onto a ship that was attached by metal hooks and rigged planks, and then shoved onto the deck like chastised children. There were five other men that had signed the dreaded pirate articles, all taken like Lovino onto the other ships that comprised of Carriedo's Armada. The few wedded men seemed to have been forgotten locked up somewhere on the Melody.

As pirates scurried about carrying their newly acquired booty, and preparing to set sail again, the captured men were approached by the intimidating Quarter Master. He was a tall man with a scar across his forehead, a whip ready in hands, and a cold sharpness in his eyes as he addressed the newly impressed men. Standing behind him with a bound notebook and feathered ink pen was Roderich, hastily documenting De Kaizer's words.

"You are now part of the Armada," the Quarter Master said, his voice loud and clear, carrying above the ruckus of men around them. "You are to be stationed on this ship, the Emma, captained by Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo himself. Remember that name, for he is now your God, and I, Abel De Kaizer am the Angel of Death to all who dare attempt dissent on this ship."

The Emma was a Brigantine, largest ship of the Armada, De Kaizer explained to them. There were over a hundred men on board, and all loyal to their captain. Emma lead the other two ships, the fast Sloop called Knight that sailed to the Emma's right was captained by the albino man Gilbert Beilschmidt. To the left was the Joan of Arc, a Naval Snow that had Francis Bonnefoy commanding it's men. Belschmidt and Bonnefoy were the arms and legs of the Armada, with Carriedo as its head.

The crew that sailed the Emma were a hearty and brutal bunch, Lovino observed silently as the Quarter Master went over the Captain's articles to them to make sure they understood the laws of the ship. All the pirates were tanned and burned from the sun, bodies strong and sweating as they went about their business. He saw a flash of crimson and white plume, following with a heavy gaze as Captain Carriedo snapped at his men while he made his way back to the stern.

"Every man here has their roles to fill, their duties on this ship." Lovino tore his eyes away from the captain and looked back up at De Kaizer. "If you fail in what you are assigned to do, then you shall be punished. This is not a ship that is governed by queen or king or laws of God or man. This is the sea, and the captain and I choose who lives or dies based on how they perform their tasks." He waved his arm forward and placed a hand on Roderich's shoulder. "Roderich Edelstein is the Sailing Master, as well as our bookkeeper. After the captain and me you answer to him. Now speak out your names and state your position and rank on your ship. You, boy…state your name and rank."

The pirate came to loom over the bound Italian, looking down his nose at him. Lovino swallowed under the man's shadow, and stammered, "L-Lovino Vargas. Cook's Assistant and Swab-ber." He hunched his shoulders, dropping his gaze under the man's scrutiny." It felt like the bastard wanted to peel him from his skin!

"Age?"

"S-Seventeen."

"Shit. More boy than man by your look. Sailing experience?"

Slowly, willing his eyes up to meet the man's dark look, Lovino said, "First time serving on a ship…"

A nasty smirk spread across the man's lips. "A babe out to sea, then?"

This rubbed Lovino the wrong way, and he could not help but growl, "I'm Italian, bastard! I've been on our barcas, and sailed to the Americas as a passenger. I know my way around a cazzo barca, but I'm no sailor!"

The man to Lovino's right, an American widower by the name of Thomas Anderson, swore under his breath, and shook his head with eyes shut. Next to Anderson was another American, a young man closer to Lovino's age named Harris White who at the same time dropped his head and tensed up.

Lovino had only a second to realize that perhaps cursing at the Quarter Master was a Bad Idea, before the pirate's leg swung, boot driving right into the center of his stomach with such violence that it drove the young man up and over his back. For a moment, Lovino could neither breathe nor see from the sheer agony of the blow, and then like fire he managed to cough and gasp, feeling blood fill his mouth. Gagging, arms still bound behind his back, he curled up on his knees and spat the red onto the deck, pained tears blinding him as he tried to breathe without his injured stomach and chest muscles.

He did not get much chance to recuperate before a boot pressed down onto the top of his neck, driving his head face-first into the deck and keeping him bowed in place. He let out a whine as his senses were wafted by the foulest stench of wood, dirt, oil, and filth that coated the wood boards of the deck. He had to force himself to breathe through his mouth rather than his nose, or else he feared he would suffocate.

"Stay down, slime," De Kaizer ordered from above him, pressing down and forcing a pained squeal from the young Italian. "I'm guessing by your crewmate's reactions that you have a tendency to run your mouth." The boot and its horrible pressure was removed, and instinctively Lovino lifted his head away from the horrid smell. "I SAID STAY THE FUCK DOWN!" The Quarter Master bellowed so loud that Lovino could feel the roar into his very bones, and with a panicked cry he slammed his head down so hard he nearly stunned himself senseless.

Seeing the young man completely and utterly cowed, the pirate spat down onto the Italian's back. Once he saw that this move did not even earn an extra shudder from the trembling mess before him, he continued, "You will never talk back to me, for you mean less to me that the grime that clings to the sides of the hull. You are here to serve the ship, nothing more but another pair of hands to keep the Emma running. The next time you speak out of turn you will find yourself hanging from the yardarms by your chicken ankles and screaming for mercy as the sun burns the flesh from your bones. Do we have an understanding, Vargas?"

Shaken to his core, Lovino managed to whimper an affirmation that yes, he understood perfectly, and may God strike him mute before his tongue dared to utter a single word to this mad man.

Satisfied, De Kaizer moved on to Anderson and White. Both men stating that they worked the rigs on the Melody, each having years of experience sailing at sea. Anderson had sailed on a Brigantine before, while it was the first time for White. Throughout the interview, Lovino kept his head down, eyes shut and drowning out the noise around him as the pain in his gut became an ache, and his senses became accustomed to the deck. He did not dare even lift his eyes for fear of the Quarter Master's wrath.

Finally, De Kaizer looked over his shoulder to Roderich. The Sailing Master continued writing hastily with a frown knotting his thin brows, his specs slipping down his nose in concentration. "Did you get all that, Edelstein?" the pirate asked.

"Of course," the other said, finishing up and blowing down onto the black ink to dry it. With a nod to his superior, the man who seemed more nobleman than pirate slipped the parchment into a notebook that was hidden in the breast pocket of his coat, and then walked away without a word.

De Kaizer crossed his arms, whip tapping against the upper part of his arm. "Two riggers and a swabber then," he said more to himself as he appraised the men before him for a moment. After a short pause he stepped over them, and with an expert twist of his rough hands, untied Anderson and White and instructed them to stand. Next he reached for the binds on Lovino's numb and scrapped wrists, pulling at them and letting them lose. Before the Italian had a chance to bring his sore hands down, he was kicked on the rump, sending him scrapping onto this belly.

"Don't lay there like a dead fish, Vargas," the pirate sneered. "I might feel pity and throw you back to the salty waters for bigger prey."

With a gasp, he scrambled up to his feet, nearly tripping over himself in haste.

Anderson and White were guided to the main mast, where they were then pulled aside by another pirate and oriented to their new posts on the ship. Lovino stood to the side, keeping his mouth shut, and trying to will himself into invisibility for fear of the Quarter Master lashing out at him again. With his crewmates dealt with, Lovino was then taken to the stern where there was a bucket of dirty water and an even dirtier mop. The scarred man shoved them towards Lovino, who gripped them his arms wide eyed.

"You say you swab, thems' the swabbing tools, yeah?" the man sneered.

Lovino gaped at him.

"SWAB!"

Lovino jumped and dropped the bucket on his foot, spilling foul water over his feet and onto the deck. With a pained cry he dropped the mop and grasped his injured appendage; noticing the absolute loathing in the Quarter Master's sharp eyes. With a bit of a limp, he gathered the bucket and the mop, and began to scrub the deck with a passion stemmed from absolute terror.

De Kaizer watched him for a couple of seconds, and then went about his business, giving Lovino breath of space to calm his nerves. Pausing, Lovino leaned against his mop and allowed himself to pause in his task and actually look around the deck…the full extent of the ship's deck…with a sinking stomach. The Melody was quite small compared to the Emma. Captain Smith had appointed four swabbers to keep the deck clean, so Lovino had never had to scrub and mop anything so massive.

Captain Smith had also cared about cleanliness of the men who served under him. He was a man of privilege, who in turn expected certain luxuries not know by lesser men. Pirates were lesser men, dirty and louse ridden. Lovino shuddered at the sight of their rotted teeth and diseased looking skin. The officers of the ship like De Kaizer and Edelstein were exceptions it seemed to what most of the crew looked like.

Lost in thought, Lovino did not notice a man sliding in beside him before the mop was kicked from his hands and he was shoved down onto the deck with a cry. Stunned, he looked up at the laughing pirate, a skinny dark man with flies buzzing around his filthy head, and lunched up with a snarl, "Try that again, bastard!"

"Hehe," the man cackled through crooked teeth, "Look how he blushes like a virgin maid!"

Lovino swung his fist at the man, who danced to the side and slapped him on the shoulder, his laughter rising and gaining the attention of his pirate comrades. "I'm going to punch you in the ear, shit eating dog!" Lovino howled, once again attempting to silence the man, and merely being flung away like a leaf in the wind.

A crowd began to form around them; about seven men with vicious grins and ugly looks in their eyes formed a tight circle around Lovino and his assaulter so fast that the young man did not realize he was being surrounded. Hands met his arms in mid-swing, and he was shoved into the sweating and unclean chests of another. They did not dawdle in their torment to let him orient himself before he was swung backwards and his feet kicked from beneath him. With a strangled cry he fell onto his side, catching a foot in his stomach that knocked the breath from his lungs.

When Lovino attempted to climb to his feet, he was stamped down viciously by bare heels and boots alike. Foul toes tangled into his hair and scrapped his scalp as one man pressed down on his head, forcing Lovino for the second time that day to come in contact with the deck.

"Ye like that, don'tcha?" The man laughed down at him, his mates hooting. "Ye want'a lick th' deck wich your tongue, don'tcha?"

"The deck or my cock!" Another man crowed loudly, kneeling down next to the young Italian, grinning through blackened teeth and dry split lips.

And another, "Whichever, I wanna see his tongue movin' nice an' sweet!"

Mouth dry, terror-stricken, Lovino from his pinned position could only watch in horror as the man kneeling next to him began to rub at his crotch, making sure that Lovino could see the outline of his manhood that was covered by his stained and worn looking trousers.

"What in God's name is going on here?"

In an instant, the hovering pack of hyenas sprang away from him, and never in his life had Lovino been so thankful to see another man. Abel De Kaizer had his whip held over his shoulder in ready position and a stormy look of barely held rage as approached the group. Freed, Lovino scrambled to his feet, almost thankful enough to hug the Quarter Master's legs in utter relief at being saved. However, just as he stepped forward and opened his mouth to speak, De Kaizer's swung the back of his fist into the side of his head. He was down with a wail of agony.

"Not even ten minutes alone and already the source of trouble!" the pirate officer snarled.

Clutching his head, Lovino cried out in anger, "I was being attacked!" He pushed himself up to his feet, but kept some distance between him and the violent man. "I didn't do anything!"

When the Quarter Master turned his deadly glare towards his men, the pirate who had been fondling himself shrugged and said, "He was standin' there dreamin' like a girl prayin' for big tits. We had to teach him th' meanin' of men's work."

"Men's work?" De Kaizer raised an eyebrow. "You were going to teach your new crewmate the meaning of 'men's work'?"

Lovino did not see it; the pirate moved so fast one second he was standing, the next he was over the other man, beating him with the handle of the whip with vicious swings. The men jumped away, but did not flee as their comrade was beaten bloody to the deck. Once De Kaizer was satisfied, his hand that held the whip bright red with blood, he stood and hollered at them, "Who is the hand that disciplines this crew? Me! No one else! I will not have this ship go down in chaos and dissent like so many other vessels before us! I will whip the skin from your hides before that happens!"

He waved at them to collect their injured friend, and did not bother to see where they took him as he turned back to Lovino. The tall blond pirate took him by the shoulder and shook him so hard that his teeth rattled, "Are you trying to test me?" He hissed poisonously, "Or are you truly a fool who cannot perform a simple task?"

"I swear, I didn't do anything!" Lovino cried; struggling as the pirate began to drag him towards the center of the ship and the main mast. He squealed as he was shoved face first onto the mast. Frightened, he looked over his shoulder at the man.

"Remove your shirt or you will have none left when I am done with you," Ordered the pirate, letting the whip down so its sharp end touched the deck. A couple of men that were working the ropes of the rigging stopped their duties and stepped away in caution. Other men, noticing something was about to happen came closer, grinning in curiosity and cruel sport.

When Lovino did not obey the command, instead staring at him with wide terrified eyes, De Kaizer came forward as if to rip his shirt from him. A man behind crowed in excitement, and called for others to come 'see the show!". Lovino cringed away, and shut his eyes, too frightened to try to flee as he saw a ring of onlookers growing at all sides.

"What is this, Abel?" Came a stern voice from the side.

All heads turned, and men quieted as Captain Carriedo pushed his way into the center of the circle, coming to stand beside the tall Quarter Master. Despite the Spaniard being a good head shorter than the other, the scarred pirate tilted his head in deference.

"He is testing me, Captain," the man said, pointing the whip at the forgotten mop and spilled water. "He fails at the simplest tasks, and has already created tensions with the crew. Better to teach him now what it means to sail on the Emma then to wait for disaster."

Green eyes looked towards him in question, and Lovino felt himself whither underneath that dark gaze. He turned his head away and rested his forehead against the mast, feeling his eyes sting with tears of despair. He was a dead man. He knew it.

His grandfather had looked at him with similar eyes, disappointment and exasperation when such simple duties were failed to be completed. Never Feliciano, who was good at everything that he did, who had grace in his hands, and a dance to his step. Oh, his brother had his clumsy moments, but those were followed with laughter and merriment - not punishment and derision.

Lovino never could say anything to defend himself. He took what came as punishment, rolled his shoulders, and went about to completing his tasks around his grandfather's smith. But this time, there would be no Feliciano to pat him on the back and tell him softly not think bad of their grandfather, that he too had something to be praised. They just had to find what it was.

"Perhaps swabbing the deck is not something he should start with," Captain Carriedo said, and Lovino could not help but glance back at the man in shock. "Roderich found him in the kitchen, so perhaps the kitchen he will stay for now. At least his clumsiness can be contained so that he is not stepping over the men's toes." He looked up at his tall man and laughed, "Perhaps Berwald will do better in keeping an eye on him."

"Berwald is too busy a man to wean this boy from his mother's tits!" Snapped De Kaizer. However, despite his protest he was already rolling up the whip.

"Perhaps," agreed Cariedo. "But the man does have a way with the getting things done, even with the most unruly of the crew."

The scarred man nodded at his captain, and slipped the whip into his belt. With a content look, Carriedo swung his arms and shouted, "There is nothing to see here, mates. Go back to your work unless YOU want to swab my dirty deck?"

Truly, nothing to see. With disappointment, the pirates dispersed.

As the crowd trickled away, De Kaizer sighed and waved his hand impatiently at Lovino. Pushing himself thankfully from the mast, he moved his trembling feel and followed him below deck. Lovino could not look up at the man, too frightened that if he even glanced up the wrong way he would incur the pirate's wrath despite the order from the captain. Feliciano had always been more timid than him, so even after their grandfather had been killed and they found employment, the man their worked with took pity on him. His brother neither glared, nor protested, apologizing profusely and begging for forgiveness and chance to prove his worth if he failed.

Lovino had his sinful pride. He shouted in defiance, and had a temper which was ill-contained. These attributes would be the death of him it seemed if he did not curb them - especially now that he sailed on a pirate ship manned by demons, and captained by a devil, who smiled and laughed as he fed his victims their own cooked flesh.

It was dark below deck. All the portholes were open, allowing sunlight to stream in. They bypasses the lot where the crew slept in hammocks and bedrolls. There were some men sleeping, most likely men who were stationed during the night. The kitchen was in actuality a store room which housed the rum, judging by the barrels and the distinct smell. Lovino did not get a chance to look before he was shoved further in and found himself staring up to a man who could only have been descended from Goliath himself. Impossibly tall, this pirate had a head full of sun-bleached blond hair that was cropped short. Ominous dark blue eyes glared down from behind a thin rim of glasses that perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose. The man stood behind a large table, in one hand a bloodied butcher knife, the other holding down a decapitated chicken.

Lovino covered his mouth and muffled the terrified scream.

"Berwald," De Kaizer announced, "Captain said you keep him here and make use of him." He nudged the whimpering Italian. "We caught him on the ship we attacked this morning."

Berwald, the tree of a man, nodded his head in acquiesce, and remained silent as his comrade turned away and left them. Once alone, the giant grunted and pointed the knife at a small stool in the corner of the room where there were a stack of dirty baskets and cracked pots. Swallowing, Lovino forced his stiffened limbs and went to the stool. He shuddered in absolute fright when the behemoth stepped away from the table with the headless fowl dangling in his hand.

"Sit." the man spoke, his voice deep and gruff sounding, his words slurring as if drunk.

Lovino dropped down to the bench, and gasped when the chicken was dropped into his arms. The young man looked up, cringing as he was completely in the other's massive shadow.

"Name?"

The question came from nowhere, startling the Italian. Swallowing, he answered, "L-Lovino."

"Berwald," the man introduced himself. "Boatswain." He pointed the knife at the dead bird. "Clean it."

Lovino jumped at the command, obediently digging his fingers into and plucking the feathers from the bird's hide. After a moment of watching him, the giant man seemed satisfied and went to bucket and cleaned the knife. He then pulled out a large sack of potatoes and dumped them on the table. Taking one out, the man inspected it, and then turned back to Lovino, who was doing a good job of de-feathering the chicken, and keeping a wary eye at the large pirate.

Lovino paused, unnerved by the man's look. Taking a careful breath, he asked, "You want me to peel them?"

The pirate nodded his head and put the potato back in the sack with its brothers. He then reached for a large belt that had had tools and bags strapped to it, looping it around his trunk-like waist. "The hull was damaged this morning," the man said, his voice low as if he were speaking to himself, "Have to fix it. You clean the bird. Peel and cut the potatoes. I will be back shortly."

"I'll stay here," Lovino said, dropping his head down and staring at lifeless animal in his lap. Some blood from the severed neck had wet his trousers. "I don't want to go up on deck right now."

Berwald suddenly squatted down, startling the Italian with how swift the man moved despite his girth. An impossible large hand sand into Lovino's hair, making him cringe despite the gentleness of the heavy limb. The giant pirate studying his face, his own features cold and stone-like, not even a twitch of his lips, or a flicker of his eyes to divulge his thoughts.

Then, the hand moved from his person, pointing at his cheek. "De Kaizer has a heavy hand."

Lovino looked away, his voice sharp despite how he tried to quiet it, "Your damn crewmates don't pull back their punches."

The man stood, knees cracking. He paused on his way out, glancing over a broad shoulder at the Italian. "I won't be long," he said, and then was gone.

Lovino stared after him, both unnerved and relieved that this was the first man he had met today that had not tried to knock his teeth out. Still, he was a pirate, and who knew what triggered such a man's rage. Lovino shuddered to think about being on the receiving end of the Goliath's ire. His jaw would be knocked clear from it's socket…

…so he had to keep his damn mouth shut.

He was completely covered in white chicken feathers by the time he had pulled the last quill of the bird's tail. Looking around he found a large crate of water, and after tasting it found it salted. He cleaned the chicken, and placed it in a half clean pot. He then found a blunt carving knife and went at the potatoes, peeling them one after another.

Every so often he stilled in his work when men walked by the kitchen entrance. None bothered to look in to see who was making their meal, which was curious. On the Melody the crew always liked to pester the cook and him about what meal they would make. They liked to throw in outrageous demands, some even audaciously giving advice when they themselves could not boil water to make tea. Perhaps the tall pirate was just as intimidating to his crewmates as he was to Lovino…or perhaps there was something else that he should be cautious about around the pirate…

Lovino let out a blood curdling shriek when said pirate suddenly walked through the entrance. So shocked at the giant man's appearance, Lovino's hand slipped and the knife gashed the side of his opposite hand, turning his shriek to a foul worded shout.

Berwald simply blinked at him, seemingly completely unfazed but the young man's cries. He unclasped his belt and let it fall to the floor with a weary bang, rubbing at his back as he came to the other side of the table and picked up on sliced potato.

"You cut well," the man commented.

"You walk like a ghost," Lovino shook his cut hand.

The giant pirate's eyebrow rose slightly, "Wrap your hand. Don't want blood in the captain's meal."

Lovino tore a piece of cloth from the edge of his shirt, glowering, "Wouldn't think he'd notice a bit of blood after the amount he spilled today."

Either the pirate did not care to defend his captain, or did not hear the Italian's spiteful words, for the man went around the kitchen, pulling out salted meat, and more vegetables that would need prepping. He ordered Lovino to clean up the potato peels and chicken feathers that littered the floorboards, and then had him working on scrubbing the dirty pots while he cut the chicken to be made into a stew.

As he scrubbed, Lovino glanced up at the large cook, watching as the man went at the bird, his face blank and once again unreadable. Once he felt like he was being completely ignored, the young man relaxed his tense shoulders and concentrated on his task.

The two barely said a word to each other during the whole time.

The giant man actually knew what he was doing, Lovino was astounded to observe. He carefully, yet swiftly, cut through meat and vegetables. He knew where everything was stored, and stoically worked like a man who was comfortable with what he was doing.

When everything was prepped and ready, the two carried the food up to the deck. Lovino cringed when coming up, but other than bored glances, he was not approached by any pirate as he was lead to the sandbox. There set up their pots and lit a fire with a piece of flint of hay and dry wood chips.

"Meat, potatoes, then vegetables?" Lovino asked the pirate.

"You know to do?" Berwald asked.

Feeling a blush come to his cheeks, he scuffed his foot and said, "I didn't wait on the previous cook for nothing, Lord have mercy on his soul."

The two amicably, if silently, finished cooking the midday meal and then as they added some herbed spices, the smell of the food began to drift with the wind. Men stopped what they were doing, finally taking notice (or perhaps their stomachs reminded them), hastily fetched to their plates and spoons, wanting to be the first to get their meal while it was still hot. Lovino watched in bemused disgust as they pushed and shoved at each other, some knocking their comrades to the ground to be first. Berwald's expression did not change at the least at the sight of this crewmates display. His eyes remained hooded and quiet, slopping up the potato and meat concoction and non-ceremoniously dumping a good ladleful onto their plates.

Lovino sat on a hatch behind the man, boredom itching at him, but happy that he could have a moment without fearfully fulfilling some type of order. He purposely did not meet De Kaizer's glare when the Quarter Master took his meal. The only moment of interest was when he noticed Berwald stiffen up, his large shoulders coming up in agitation.

Tilting to the side to look around the giant wall of a man, one brow came up curiously at the sight of a delicate looking young blond man, smiling jovially up the imposing Boatswain.

"Berwald, your food always tastes so good!" The young man said, brown eyes noticing Lovino and giving the Italian a nod of the head in acknowledgement. "And you now have the help you needed! I told you the Captain would make it happen if you spoke to him."

Berwald nodded his head, muttering lowly, "You were right." The man's look became dangerous as another crewmate behind in the line jostled the small pirate, bellowing about his hunger pains killing him if he did not haul his ass and move.

With a shy grin, the young man left them, spooning his food into his mouth as he walked.

"He is a pirate?" Lovino could not help ask out loud.

"He is Tino," Berwald said. "He is the Master Gunner."

"Gunner? More like a delicate flower!"

"He is my wife," the man turned baleful eyes towards Lovino.

The young man stared at the other, at first sure he had heard wrong. But when Berwald continued to watch him, as if daring him to react, Lovino understood why everyone walked carefully around the giant man. He was a sodomite. Lovino was working beside a sodomite. Lovino was trapped on a ship with a sodomite. As if becoming a pirate wasn't evil enough, but the man had to delve into the most heinous of perversions, craving to lay with another man rather than with a woman

He made sure Berwald's back was turned to him before making the sign of the cross. Harris White and Thomas Anderson came up soon after, each looking haggard and pale but none worse for wear. Lovino exchanged a knowing look of despair with them, each one looking at the other with desperate hope for salvation from this damned ship and its occupants.

But this was not even a full day since their capture…yet already they could not stand it.

Lovino pondered this as he docilely took his meal from Berwald's hand when given to him, and even though the food was good and his mouth salivated at how the salt was just right in the meat without being overpowering, Lovino could not find joy in the meal. Would there come a time when he would not mind being in this sinner's presence? Would he converse with his tormentors, these slayers of innocents, and eat beside them? Would he look to the captain with respect and follow his orders without question?

Today he cooked their meal; what would he be asked of tomorrow?

With an ill feeling in his stomach, Lovino helped Berwald take the pots back below deck. He was told to clean all the wares and start prepping for the evening meal. The man then picked up his belt and disappeared. Once again, the kitchen remained undisturbed, not a single soul stopping to come in and visit. Lovino completed all that was ordered of him unmolested, and found himself aimlessly pacing the kitchen. He was too frightened to step out, sure that if spotted by once of his abusers he would be attacked again and this time would not be lucky enough to be saved by the Quarter Master. However, the place made him uneasy with the knowledge that it was most likely that Berwald was blatant with his perversions, and even if he claimed Tino as his wife, what did the other men think when they saw Lovino with the man?

Lovino sat himself on the stool in the corner and hugged himself. It was then a heavy exhaustion came upon him, and he allowed his head to sink into his arms, shutting his eyes and hoping to get a few moments of sleep.

And sleep he did….only to wake up in the shadow of a glaring Berwald.

Lovino found himself shrieking for the second time to the sight of this man.

"You're loud," complained the pirate.

"Then stop trying to scare the life out of me!" Lovino wheezed, gripping his chest and trying to will his heart to stop trying to shatter his ribs.

Berwald had left him for over four hours. The sun would set soon and they needed to get the evening meal underway. With the food mostly prepped by Lovino it was short order to drench the salted meat in water, and then carry their burdens to the deck. The food was ready when the sky began to darken, a line of hungry and worn pirates already began pushing forward for their turn in getting their supper.

Lovino was about to sit back and let Berwald handle the ladle once again, when Tino appeared, flushed in the cheeks and looking hesitant as he approached two. In his hands he carried a fine looking wooden tray with a pristine white bowl on it.

"Captain said that I should help you serve supper." Nervous brown eyes passed on to Lovino. There was an odd look to him as he said, "Captain said he wants you…to take him his meal in his cabin."

"Why me?" demanded Lovino, feeling troubled, but shielding it with irritation. He did NOT want to see that madman again! He nearly swallowed his tongue when Berwald came to loom over him, the young man having to nearly bend his back to meet the man's face.

A large, impossibly large hand came to completely engulf his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze to remind the Italian of his place. "Do as you're told," the man said gravely.

His hand was heavy, oh so heavy. A reminder of how heavy his crewmate's hands had been to him. When seeing that he had Lovino completely and utterly cowed, he took the tray from Tino and handed it to the defeated young man. With his ladle he then served an extremely large helping onto the plate.

Lovino watched this numbly, staring down as the heat of the freshly cooked meal hit his face.

He should be hungry, but he could not bring himself to even lick his lips.

Tino waved at him to follow, and he did, not glancing up at the giant Boatswain, nor at the men who ignored his departure in favor for food. He was careful not to tray, not wanting any excuse to be punished. Who knew what angered such a man as Carriedo el Diablo. He followed the blond pirate across the deck and back towards the stern, where the captain's quarters were housed . As they approached the closed door, Lovino's stomach sank with dread, and he felt himself begin to perspire.

He did not want to be here. He did not want to see this man. He wanted nothing more than to fling himself overboard and try to swim himself into oblivion.

But Lovino could not even whisper out his defiance.

When Tino knocked on the door, a muffled voice told them to enter. Tino pulled the door open, and canted his head at Lovino to go in first.

With heavy, deadened steps, Lovino crossed the threshold.

A/N: Here are some notes that I thought would interest you guys:

Abel De Kaizer: Netherlands for those who did not figure it out. From his few seconds of screen time in World Series, I got the feeling that 1) He loved his sister Belgium. 2) He hated Spain. 3) He was a man of strict principles.

Role of the Quarter Master: They are the second-in-command. Most ships had them elected because they did not want the Captain to have sole authority. They maintained order among the crew, and were the only ones who could delve out punishment and discipline. Personally, I think they had one of the hardest roles on the ship, because they basically dealt with all the shit on the ship, while the Captain got all the glory and notoriety!

Role of the Sailing Master: They were the ones in charge of navigation - sailing the ship in the right direction - and keeping track of the maps and compasses. They were usually educated men, and often kidnapped from other ships and press-ganged into one can ever say that Austria is NOT educated!

Role of the Boatswain: Maintenance and repair they were in charge of other men, to also take care of morale on the ship. I decided to fuse Berwald's position with the Carpenter who also was in charge of repairing the ship when things broke. Ships would sink if not for these guys!

Regarding Doctors and Cooks:There weren't any real cooks on board…or even doctors. Pirates figured that if a man can cook, then he can figure out how to stich a man together and cure him of a fever. Lots of times the Carpenters took the roles as doctors and/or cooks. If you can fix a boat, why not a man? Or my meal! They did the actual cooking up on deck in a sandbox so as not to burn a hole in the ship.

Role of the Master Gunner: Usually gunners oversaw a small group of men who maintained the firearms. Guns were an asset and were not treated lightly. It was life or death if the gun was faulty or the aim was off. The Master Gunner also helped in organizing attacks and boarding's

My one and only request is to know what you guys think! Your reviews for chapter 1 were amazing and wonderful and made me smile! I would love to know what you thought of chapter 2!

Tri