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usxuk2010-12-04 02:58 pm
sillyjasdero.livejournal.com) wrote in usxuk2010-12-04 02:58 pm
Entry tags:
[SECRET SANTA FIC] UNCHARTED Chapter 4
TITLE: UNCHARTED Chapter 4
AUTHOR:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sillyjasdero
RECIPIENT:wishfull2
GENRE: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance
RATING: T
WARNINGS: language, some violence
SUMMARY: prompt was Marine Alfred and Pirate Arthur, from enemies to lovers
NOTES: I SWEAR this is a USUK fic, but right now the focus is on Alfred. Enjoy!
Previous Chapters:
One http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1106070.html
Two http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1107106.html
Three http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1108563.html
Previous Chapter:
http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1108563.html
CHAPTER 4
Morning came too soon in Alfred’s opinion. It found him half-buried under a pillow that felt like it was made of rock and a thin piece of cloth that can hardly be called a blanket.
After being involved in the bar fight, their search for a place to stay in resulted to innkeeper after innkeeper slamming doors to their faces. Alfred’s and Gilbert’s battered faces were not a welcome sight, Matthew had told them scathingly. He bashed their heads together for good measure when they threatened to knock down the last inn’s entrance after being rejected by four others.
Soon, they found themselves in the storage room of Gilbert’s brother’s inn.
The inn was a decent enough place that the red-eyed man had always avoided in fear of being lectured by his younger brother, but as they had no other choice that night, Ludwig had let them in because Gilbert had threatened to weep.
The place was jam-packed with customers though, so Feliciano, Ludwig’s partner, had helped set them up in a spare room where most of the food was kept.
Alfred had wanted to joke about keeping him and food inside the same room, but had kept his mouth shut after his half-brother threw a bottle of healing salve at his head. The younger blond had then turned his back to Alfred and ignored both him and Gilbert for the rest of the night.
“Hey at least it’s free!” Gilbert had said in a half-assed attempt to break the tension before plopping down on his own makeshift bed. A sharp curse went flying out of his mouth when his head missed his pillow with an audible crack!.
Alfred couldn’t remember falling asleep; just the thought that Matthew was mad at him sent chills up his spine and sleep avoided him like the plague.
When sunlight poured through the room’s small window and burned through his eyelids though, he realized that he had managed to catch a few winks. Yawning, he shifted on his cot, murmuring his desire to sleep for a few more minutes.
His half-brother’s terse warning answered him.
“Ship’s leaving before noon. With or without you.”
At that, Alfred scrambled to his feet. His legs got tangled on the sheets and he stumbled deafeningly, in time with Matthew banging the door close. Hissing and huffing, he ignored the pain and the way his eyes watered and proceeded to prepare for the day.
Nobody had seemingly heard of the brawl in Hellas’s Tavern. No one looked up in fear of the blond young man with beautiful blue eyes who had wrestled with a much largely-built porter the night before; no one cared to praise him in his rescue of a poor terrified man just a few hours ago. He didn’t even get a word of gratitude from the man he saved.
And Matthew, the only family he had, was angry at him on top of all that. He refused to speak to the older blond directly, content with sending him glares and frowns.
“This sucks,” Alfred muttered.
A silver tray clattered to the floor.
He looked up to see a tearful Feliciano clutching his chest as if wounded.
“Y-you do not l-like pasta?”
Alfred blinked.
“Uwaaaaa! Ludwiiiiiig!!!” the brown-haired man ran to the kitchens, leaving Alfred gaping like a fish, Gilbert accidentally inhaling his food, and Matthew not caring as he finished his meal.
Most of the time, Ludwig didn’t really care what people said about Feliciano’s food; the payment was what was important—dear Lord, he was becoming Roderich. But he had housed his brother and his friends for a night out of pity, didn’t pressure them to pay for what they ate, kept up with Gilbert slipping a few beers from the cellar, bothered to get up in the middle of the night to let said brother and friends in, got bothered by some customers who had guts to refuse to pay, and now Feliciano was crying because Alfred did not like the food.
Ludwig pushed the kitchen doors so hard they hit the walls and approached his three guests. Red from the tips of his ears, he appeared to be exhaling steam through his nose. Alfred backed away instantly.
Ludwig opened his mouth.
“AH!” Gilbert interrupted without a breath and shook his brother’s hand. “Yes, brüder! We were just leaving! Thank you! You have been very, very, very gracious! Here, take this. It’s not much but—”
“Brüder, this is the money I lent you—”
“—Iwashonestlyhopingyou’dnevernotice—OFF WE GO, BOYS!!!” the older brother practically screamed.
Alfred felt the need to apologize. “Feli, I wasn’t—”
Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Only HE was allowed to call his partner that.
“COME. ON. GUYS!!!” Gilbert’s eyes were so wide they looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets.
“We’re not allowed to call him Feli?! I’m sorry—”
“—that Alfred is such a retard.” Matthew butted in, offering Ludwig a small smile.
Alfred shut up and glowered at his half-brother, who glowered at him in return.
Ludwig exhaled heavily.
“It’s fine. It’s fine. Just… go.” he replied, massaging his temples.
Looking pointedly at Gilbert, he added a simple “Take care.”
Relief flooded the red-eyed man’s face. “Ja! See ya next month, brüder!”
“Ja. And I expect payment for the beer, brüder.”
“…shit.”
----------
“Shit.”
The brick walls threw the swear word back at him. Somehow, he had made a wrong turn and he ended up alone in a blind alley. Matthew and Gilbert were nowhere to be found.
“Shit.” Alfred repeated.
He turned on his heel and tried to retrace his steps, fuming. He wouldn’t have gotten lost if it wasn’t for the man who demanded that he pay the damages caused to Hellas’s Tavern last night; the barkeep named Heracles. He had confronted Alfred upon exiting Ludwig’s inn; separating him from his two companions who had been only a few steps ahead, confident that the blue-eyed man was right behind them.
But as much as he had wanted to help the man get the money to feed his poor cats, Alfred’s commission wasn’t due until he boards the warship Konstanze with Matthew and Gilbert. What he had in his pockets was enough to buy supplies to last him the two-day journey at sea aboard a passenger ship before transferring to the navy-issued craft.
This he told Heracles but the barkeep insisted.
Alfred argued that he wasn’t even the cause of the brawl.
Heracles argued back, saying the situation was under control until Alfred intruded.
Alfred then decided to make a run for it.
To his utter frustration, he realized that Heracles didn’t even give chase.
Dizzy with hunger (he didn’t manage to finish his meal thanks to Feliciano’s tearful outburst and the fear of Ludwig’s heated version) and the merciless heat of the sun, Alfred wandered the seldom-used roads of the town. He couldn’t find his way back to the harbor, not with his determination overpowered by the need for food and his mind clouded by the lack of it. There weren’t any shops around, so he couldn’t buy something to eat. There were people, a handful of townsfolk scattered here and there minding their own business, much unlike the sea of merchants and workers at the port; and unlike them, these people seemed afraid of talking to an apparent foreigner. They all turn away and increase their pace when they see him.
Great.
He was lost, so hungry that he couldn’t walk straight and the only people he can ask for directions are scared of him.
Swallowing another swear word that threatened to come past his lips, Alfred continued to walk, only vaguely aware of his surroundings.
By some miracle, he found himself back at the familiar streets of the port. The thick crowd indicated that he was indeed where he wanted to be. The environment buzzed with activity; traders selling their wares, customers arguing for bargains, ships’ bells pealing and piercing the late noon air.
Oh no.
“MATTIE!!!” Alfred frantically hollered, craning his neck to look for any sign of his half-brother. Squeezing his way through the sea of people, he continued yelling different variations of Matthew’s name, and Gilbert’s. But none of the faces that looked up at him were familiar.
Unable to remember their passenger ship’s name, he began to panic.
What if they had left without him? How will he contact them? Where will he go? Did they even notice he was gone? Was Matthew angry enough to leave him behind deliberately?
Wait.
Matthew hadn’t told him the name of the ship.
His heart sank.
The idea of his half-brother abandoning him out of anger greatly outweighed his fear for being left behind.
Accepting the circumstances as his punishment, Alfred headed to Ludwig’s inn. Maybe he can stay there until Matthew and Gilbert returned from their trip. But how long exactly does it take to hunt down a pirate?
He was roused from his musing when a person bumped into him.
“Oof!”
The other man stumbled to the ground after impact but was quickly back on his feet. He was even the first to apologize.
“Ouch… Oh! Oh, I’m really sorry!”
“Uh, no, yeah, ‘s no big.” Alfred assured him, smiling a little. “My fault for stopping in the middle of the road.”
“Oh.”
“ALL ABOARD!!!” a booming voice startled them both.
“Oh! Oh no! I’m going to be late!”
Without a backward glance, the man with coffee-colored hair ran to the docks and got on the nearest ship. Alfred followed him with his gaze and turned to resume his trek when another person caught his eye.
A man with blond locks reaching his shoulders, standing on the deck of the ship the other guy boarded just a few seconds ago.
“MATTHEW!”
Excited, and grinning from ear to ear, Alfred hurried toward the ship. Other people impeded his progress though, and soon he saw that the ship was raising anchor.
“NO! WAIT! WAIT!”
“Is there a problem, mate?”
“My brother’s on this ship! You have to let me—”
“Nah, an excuse as old as time. Off she goes boys!”
“WAIT! I have a pass!”
“Oh? Well, why didn’t ya say so earlier?”
Alfred struggled with his rucksack to get the important papers, glancing now and then at the ship slowly inching away from the harbor. The porter didn’t even tell the crew to halt her advance.
“Here!” he shouted, very nearly shoving the documents in the porter’s face. Come on!
The man nodded once upon seeing the papers. He didn’t even look like he knew how to read.
“Part of the navy, are ya? Off you go then, ship’s leavin’.”
Alfred rolled his eyes, annoyed, and finally boarded the ship. Upon reaching the deck, he exhaled noisily, relieved that he was finally on his way. He instantly spotted the brown-haired man from before only standing only a few feet from him. He was talking to—
“MATTIE!” Alfred ran.
He started babbling the moment he reached the two men.
“Mattie I’m so sorry I’m a jerk and pigheaded and want to be a hero all the time but hey, if I weren’t then I’d be your twin but still! I’m sorry for not hearing you out when you need me to; I know you were just worried but—Goddammit I thought you’ve left me behind!” he finished, catching his breath.
Matthew was yet to look at him.
“Mattie—” he said, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder, afraid that he might be lashed out at.
The blond man turned to face him.
And Alfred’s jaw dropped.
“Shit.”
The man looked unimpressed and raised a fine brow at him before speaking.
“Hey, that’s, like, so totally rude you know.”
---
Next Chapter:
http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1116873.html
Author's Notes: The plot is so slow, I'm so sorry (>'_'<) I'm kinda obsessed with details. I also wanted to incorporate Himaruya's fascination with American movies where he says one f-bomb per minute is dropped (at least that's what I think he said in his blog), but I couldn't get myself to type it ugh. So I use the old s-word instead.
AUTHOR:
sillyjasderoRECIPIENT:
wishfull2GENRE: Adventure, Fantasy, Romance
RATING: T
WARNINGS: language, some violence
SUMMARY: prompt was Marine Alfred and Pirate Arthur, from enemies to lovers
NOTES: I SWEAR this is a USUK fic, but right now the focus is on Alfred. Enjoy!
Previous Chapters:
One http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1106070.html
Two http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1107106.html
Three http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1108563.html
Previous Chapter:
http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1108563.html
Morning came too soon in Alfred’s opinion. It found him half-buried under a pillow that felt like it was made of rock and a thin piece of cloth that can hardly be called a blanket.
After being involved in the bar fight, their search for a place to stay in resulted to innkeeper after innkeeper slamming doors to their faces. Alfred’s and Gilbert’s battered faces were not a welcome sight, Matthew had told them scathingly. He bashed their heads together for good measure when they threatened to knock down the last inn’s entrance after being rejected by four others.
Soon, they found themselves in the storage room of Gilbert’s brother’s inn.
The inn was a decent enough place that the red-eyed man had always avoided in fear of being lectured by his younger brother, but as they had no other choice that night, Ludwig had let them in because Gilbert had threatened to weep.
The place was jam-packed with customers though, so Feliciano, Ludwig’s partner, had helped set them up in a spare room where most of the food was kept.
Alfred had wanted to joke about keeping him and food inside the same room, but had kept his mouth shut after his half-brother threw a bottle of healing salve at his head. The younger blond had then turned his back to Alfred and ignored both him and Gilbert for the rest of the night.
“Hey at least it’s free!” Gilbert had said in a half-assed attempt to break the tension before plopping down on his own makeshift bed. A sharp curse went flying out of his mouth when his head missed his pillow with an audible crack!.
Alfred couldn’t remember falling asleep; just the thought that Matthew was mad at him sent chills up his spine and sleep avoided him like the plague.
When sunlight poured through the room’s small window and burned through his eyelids though, he realized that he had managed to catch a few winks. Yawning, he shifted on his cot, murmuring his desire to sleep for a few more minutes.
His half-brother’s terse warning answered him.
“Ship’s leaving before noon. With or without you.”
At that, Alfred scrambled to his feet. His legs got tangled on the sheets and he stumbled deafeningly, in time with Matthew banging the door close. Hissing and huffing, he ignored the pain and the way his eyes watered and proceeded to prepare for the day.
Nobody had seemingly heard of the brawl in Hellas’s Tavern. No one looked up in fear of the blond young man with beautiful blue eyes who had wrestled with a much largely-built porter the night before; no one cared to praise him in his rescue of a poor terrified man just a few hours ago. He didn’t even get a word of gratitude from the man he saved.
And Matthew, the only family he had, was angry at him on top of all that. He refused to speak to the older blond directly, content with sending him glares and frowns.
“This sucks,” Alfred muttered.
A silver tray clattered to the floor.
He looked up to see a tearful Feliciano clutching his chest as if wounded.
“Y-you do not l-like pasta?”
Alfred blinked.
“Uwaaaaa! Ludwiiiiiig!!!” the brown-haired man ran to the kitchens, leaving Alfred gaping like a fish, Gilbert accidentally inhaling his food, and Matthew not caring as he finished his meal.
Most of the time, Ludwig didn’t really care what people said about Feliciano’s food; the payment was what was important—dear Lord, he was becoming Roderich. But he had housed his brother and his friends for a night out of pity, didn’t pressure them to pay for what they ate, kept up with Gilbert slipping a few beers from the cellar, bothered to get up in the middle of the night to let said brother and friends in, got bothered by some customers who had guts to refuse to pay, and now Feliciano was crying because Alfred did not like the food.
Ludwig pushed the kitchen doors so hard they hit the walls and approached his three guests. Red from the tips of his ears, he appeared to be exhaling steam through his nose. Alfred backed away instantly.
Ludwig opened his mouth.
“AH!” Gilbert interrupted without a breath and shook his brother’s hand. “Yes, brüder! We were just leaving! Thank you! You have been very, very, very gracious! Here, take this. It’s not much but—”
“Brüder, this is the money I lent you—”
“—Iwashonestlyhopingyou’dnevernotice—OFF WE GO, BOYS!!!” the older brother practically screamed.
Alfred felt the need to apologize. “Feli, I wasn’t—”
Ludwig raised an eyebrow. Only HE was allowed to call his partner that.
“COME. ON. GUYS!!!” Gilbert’s eyes were so wide they looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets.
“We’re not allowed to call him Feli?! I’m sorry—”
“—that Alfred is such a retard.” Matthew butted in, offering Ludwig a small smile.
Alfred shut up and glowered at his half-brother, who glowered at him in return.
Ludwig exhaled heavily.
“It’s fine. It’s fine. Just… go.” he replied, massaging his temples.
Looking pointedly at Gilbert, he added a simple “Take care.”
Relief flooded the red-eyed man’s face. “Ja! See ya next month, brüder!”
“Ja. And I expect payment for the beer, brüder.”
“…shit.”
----------
“Shit.”
The brick walls threw the swear word back at him. Somehow, he had made a wrong turn and he ended up alone in a blind alley. Matthew and Gilbert were nowhere to be found.
“Shit.” Alfred repeated.
He turned on his heel and tried to retrace his steps, fuming. He wouldn’t have gotten lost if it wasn’t for the man who demanded that he pay the damages caused to Hellas’s Tavern last night; the barkeep named Heracles. He had confronted Alfred upon exiting Ludwig’s inn; separating him from his two companions who had been only a few steps ahead, confident that the blue-eyed man was right behind them.
But as much as he had wanted to help the man get the money to feed his poor cats, Alfred’s commission wasn’t due until he boards the warship Konstanze with Matthew and Gilbert. What he had in his pockets was enough to buy supplies to last him the two-day journey at sea aboard a passenger ship before transferring to the navy-issued craft.
This he told Heracles but the barkeep insisted.
Alfred argued that he wasn’t even the cause of the brawl.
Heracles argued back, saying the situation was under control until Alfred intruded.
Alfred then decided to make a run for it.
To his utter frustration, he realized that Heracles didn’t even give chase.
Dizzy with hunger (he didn’t manage to finish his meal thanks to Feliciano’s tearful outburst and the fear of Ludwig’s heated version) and the merciless heat of the sun, Alfred wandered the seldom-used roads of the town. He couldn’t find his way back to the harbor, not with his determination overpowered by the need for food and his mind clouded by the lack of it. There weren’t any shops around, so he couldn’t buy something to eat. There were people, a handful of townsfolk scattered here and there minding their own business, much unlike the sea of merchants and workers at the port; and unlike them, these people seemed afraid of talking to an apparent foreigner. They all turn away and increase their pace when they see him.
Great.
He was lost, so hungry that he couldn’t walk straight and the only people he can ask for directions are scared of him.
Swallowing another swear word that threatened to come past his lips, Alfred continued to walk, only vaguely aware of his surroundings.
By some miracle, he found himself back at the familiar streets of the port. The thick crowd indicated that he was indeed where he wanted to be. The environment buzzed with activity; traders selling their wares, customers arguing for bargains, ships’ bells pealing and piercing the late noon air.
Oh no.
“MATTIE!!!” Alfred frantically hollered, craning his neck to look for any sign of his half-brother. Squeezing his way through the sea of people, he continued yelling different variations of Matthew’s name, and Gilbert’s. But none of the faces that looked up at him were familiar.
Unable to remember their passenger ship’s name, he began to panic.
What if they had left without him? How will he contact them? Where will he go? Did they even notice he was gone? Was Matthew angry enough to leave him behind deliberately?
Wait.
Matthew hadn’t told him the name of the ship.
His heart sank.
The idea of his half-brother abandoning him out of anger greatly outweighed his fear for being left behind.
Accepting the circumstances as his punishment, Alfred headed to Ludwig’s inn. Maybe he can stay there until Matthew and Gilbert returned from their trip. But how long exactly does it take to hunt down a pirate?
He was roused from his musing when a person bumped into him.
“Oof!”
The other man stumbled to the ground after impact but was quickly back on his feet. He was even the first to apologize.
“Ouch… Oh! Oh, I’m really sorry!”
“Uh, no, yeah, ‘s no big.” Alfred assured him, smiling a little. “My fault for stopping in the middle of the road.”
“Oh.”
“ALL ABOARD!!!” a booming voice startled them both.
“Oh! Oh no! I’m going to be late!”
Without a backward glance, the man with coffee-colored hair ran to the docks and got on the nearest ship. Alfred followed him with his gaze and turned to resume his trek when another person caught his eye.
A man with blond locks reaching his shoulders, standing on the deck of the ship the other guy boarded just a few seconds ago.
“MATTHEW!”
Excited, and grinning from ear to ear, Alfred hurried toward the ship. Other people impeded his progress though, and soon he saw that the ship was raising anchor.
“NO! WAIT! WAIT!”
“Is there a problem, mate?”
“My brother’s on this ship! You have to let me—”
“Nah, an excuse as old as time. Off she goes boys!”
“WAIT! I have a pass!”
“Oh? Well, why didn’t ya say so earlier?”
Alfred struggled with his rucksack to get the important papers, glancing now and then at the ship slowly inching away from the harbor. The porter didn’t even tell the crew to halt her advance.
“Here!” he shouted, very nearly shoving the documents in the porter’s face. Come on!
The man nodded once upon seeing the papers. He didn’t even look like he knew how to read.
“Part of the navy, are ya? Off you go then, ship’s leavin’.”
Alfred rolled his eyes, annoyed, and finally boarded the ship. Upon reaching the deck, he exhaled noisily, relieved that he was finally on his way. He instantly spotted the brown-haired man from before only standing only a few feet from him. He was talking to—
“MATTIE!” Alfred ran.
He started babbling the moment he reached the two men.
“Mattie I’m so sorry I’m a jerk and pigheaded and want to be a hero all the time but hey, if I weren’t then I’d be your twin but still! I’m sorry for not hearing you out when you need me to; I know you were just worried but—Goddammit I thought you’ve left me behind!” he finished, catching his breath.
Matthew was yet to look at him.
“Mattie—” he said, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder, afraid that he might be lashed out at.
The blond man turned to face him.
And Alfred’s jaw dropped.
“Shit.”
The man looked unimpressed and raised a fine brow at him before speaking.
“Hey, that’s, like, so totally rude you know.”
---
Next Chapter:
http://community.livejournal.com/usxuk/1116873.html
Author's Notes: The plot is so slow, I'm so sorry (>'_'<) I'm kinda obsessed with details. I also wanted to incorporate Himaruya's fascination with American movies where he says one f-bomb per minute is dropped (at least that's what I think he said in his blog), but I couldn't get myself to type it ugh. So I use the old s-word instead.
no subject
"I also wanted to incorporate Himaruya's fascination with American movies where he says one f-bomb per minute is dropped (at least that's what I think he said in his blog), but I couldn't get myself to type it ugh. So I use the old s-word instead." => Lol! I have the same problem! The f-word (and curses in general) just don't come naturally to me. XD
Keep going, keep going! I don't think the plot is slow at all (though that may be because my own are even slower XD).
I enjoy it very much so far!
no subject
but that's all I'm gonna say~~~
I have no problem having Gilbert drop the f-bombs but I guess I have problems with Alfred XD
and thank you~!
no subject
I should've known the bartender was Greece...the cat was a dead giveaway, but I kept thinking it was Blofeld! XD
=^..^=~
no subject
I found it awesomely hilarious. I like your story.^^
Ah by the way when Gilbert and Ludwig are talking and refering to each other as Brüder it actually should be Bruder. Since Brüder is the plural.
no subject
no subject
if you were going to say "brother" it's Bruder - with capital, but who cares :3