Can't concentrate
Jun. 3rd, 2003 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20I can't seem to concentrate on work, so I'll take (another) quick break.
So, after all that confusion about what to do with the next COTW, I think I'm going to break it into 2 parts anyway. Which means 3 fics come out all at once. It's not that I think it's too long, exactly, but the plot breaks up. There's a lot I have to deal with in Smallville, and then he goes off to Metropolis; I think the Metropolis stuff has to be set on it's own, but under the same title as the first. I'll have to wait and see how it reads, which I will as soon as I stop dragging my heels and actually *write* the darn thing.
In other news, I started my fic for the Historical Fiction challenge. I'm going to do something I've never done and post what i have (unbeta'd and just written) just to see what people think. I'm still thinkig about writing it, and trying to decide small things (like if Lex should have hair), but I'd thought I'd see if anyone had any suggestions. This is the first time I've done a total AU before, and I don't know how I'm doing.
It wasn't until Lex had actually boarded the other ship that he realized they were attacking an English ship. Which meant that they'd turned pirate. Again. Without consulting him.
This was getting ridiculous. Yes, when all was said and done, piracy was more lucrative. Actually, Lex enjoyed it more; there was more freedom, although, unlike most ships, his father still ruled with an iron fist. Which was why, the moment they ever docked in England, his father went directly to the king, a humble apology on his lips, and a trunk of gold that was enough to buy forgiveness and a new Letter of Marque. All so he could keep control over his men instead of giving it up like all the other pirates.
He picked his way carefully over the blood soaked dock of the defeated ship. They'd put up a fight, but had been quickly subdued. The blood was from the executions after.
"Leave no officer alive," his father had ordered, and Lucas, always thrilled to get dirty, and gleefully shot them all. Slowly.
Well, they had time. Lionel had ordered that the booty be transferred to the "Lady Lillian"--their ship--and the "Persephone"--the ship they'd attacked--inspected to make sure it was still sea worthy.
Lex had finished his inspection under the wary eyes of the crew. They were subdued, which was good, since Lex didn't want to have to kill any of them. If the ship could sail, he would need a crew to get it back to Jamaica. They'd sell it to the highest bidder, and the crew would be compensated--after the Luthors took their portion, of course.
"How does it look, son?" Lionel asked as he crossed the deck to Lex.
"Everything seems in order, Captain. There was damage to the foremast, but it's not bad. She'll sail fine."
"And the crew?"
Lex's eye roved over the sullen men. Most were free and standing to the side, waiting to hear their fate. "They'll cooperate," he said. He had a good eye for these things and rarely misjudged a crew's willingness to serve a pirate.
"Good. You and Lucas will take control and follow me. We'll take her into Louisiana; she'll sell well there."
"The colonies, Captain?" Lex said in surprise. He'd assumed they'd go back to Port Royal.
Lionel's teeth gleamed briefly. "With any luck, we'll sell the ship and no one will be the wiser it was us to took her. Then, we'll restock, and go out on the account again just in time to net us a Spanish galleon. For king and country, of course."
"Of course," Lex replied dryly, catching on his father's game. "But, Captain, I think Lucas should stay with you. This is his first voyage, and …"
"And who better to tutor him than his brother?"
Lex raised on sun bleached eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. The truth was, he hated the little bastard, and hated the fact that Lionel had plucked him out of the whore house he'd been raised into to take to sea. There was something definitely … off about Lucas, and he had a feeling that it was that something that Lionel wanted to nurture. Lex, his first and only legitimate son, was ruthless, cold, and an efficient killer. He was an expert swordsman and had a deadly aim with even the most unwieldy musket. But, unlike Lucas, he didn't derive pleasure from killing. It wasn't his life's mission to take the lives of thousands of men and bathe in their blood.
To be honest, Lex wasn't sure if his father really considered Lucas' obsession with pain and death to be *good* or if he was simply intrigued by Lucas' lack of remorse or anything resembling common sense. After all, bloodthirstiness only helped in the middle of battle; the daily life of a pirate called for more decorum.
Of course, he didn't bring any of this up with his father. Instead, he nodded and said, "Of course, Captain. I will do my best."
"Choose five men to help keep this crew in line and take whatever belongings you want from 'Lady Lillian.' We leave in one hour." Lionel turned sharply on his heel and left, crossing the planks set up between the ships back to their own.
Lex looked across the deck at his closest companion, Damien. Without Lex having to say anything, Damien quickly crossed the deck to him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Round up the crew and tell them we are setting sail in one hour. After we depart, they may have whatever services they wish for their dead. Also, if you tell Hamilton, Sullivan, Trenton, and Dickens they are with us."
Damien saluted sharply. "Yes, sir."
"Have you seen Lucas?"
"I believe he's below decks."
Of course. The only think Lucas loved more than blood was booty, so it made sense he was still in the hold. Only, when Lex got there, Lucas was nowhere to be found.
Perplexed, Lex moved to the forecastle hold. Maybe Lucas was looking for prey before the mast; after blood and money, Lucas was also fond of flesh. It was almost fortunate that he preferred men--as did Lex himself--since, even on the off chance they stumbled across a woman at sea--the penalty for forcing a woman at sea was death. Even Lionel would be hesitant to waive that punishment because once you started allowing one man to get away with it, the other's got ugly. Lex knew that from experience; years ago, when he'd been but a boy serving as cabin boy, Lionel had bent the rules.
Lex really didn't enjoy thinking about that incident. He still had scars and nightmares that caused him to wake up in a cold sweat.
"Don't *do* this to me, Whitney," a voice said faintly. "Don't give up."
"Clark, it is all right. Tell Lana …"
"I will tell her nothing. You will tell her."
Curious, Lex picked carefully around the boxes that were blocking him the voices. He knew they didn't belong to his crew, and wondered if they'd, perhaps, missed two of the officers. If so, then the rest of the crew would have to be punished for concealing it from him. But, he really didn't think they had concealed anything. More than likely, they were regular crew who had hid during the battle.
He stepped around the last box to reveal his captives.
One was wounded and stretched on the floor over some netting. He'd been shot in the side, just above his hip, and the wound was bleeding profusely. The man was blond and bronzed from the son, dressed in a pair of tattered breeches that were too big for him, his feet bare and oddly smooth. He was slim and lightly built, but wiry. Most likely he was strong, but it was hard to tell right now. His skin was flushed, but sickly, sweat glistening on his brow, and face contorted in pain.
There was another man leaning over him, also shirtless. His shirt was, Lex assumed, the bit of beige that was under the blond man's head.
"Okay, Whitney, I've got it," he was saying. He had was looked like a pair of rusty metal tweezers, probably taken from the surgeon, in his hand, and was digging in the musket wound in Whitney's side. Blood seeped around it, staining his fingers, but his hands were fairly steady as he placed one on Whitney's forehead.
Whitney opened his eyes. "You do?"
"Yes. Take a deep breath and …"
There was a popping sound and Whitney screamed. His back arched off the netting as the ball was pulled from his side. The air was heavy with the smell of blood, sweat, and sickness. Lex doubted Whitney would last the night.
"Good. Good," the other man was whispering, even though Whitney had plainly passed out. He turned and picked up the shirt that was resting behind him. His eyes met Lex's, and he froze.
Oh, dear Lord in heaven, this man--*boy*, for while his body was that of a man's, his eyes were innocent and clear--was beautiful. It was not a term that Lex often applied to men, as he'd been terrorized with the term as a child, but it was true. There was not other word to describe the sculpted, strong, and somehow otherworldly face.
I want him, was the first thought that passed through Lex's mind, quickly followed by a myriad of visions of the boy, thoroughly debauched in his bed, eyes heavy-lidded, and skin glistening with evidence of their passion.
And then, the cold douse of reality hit him: Lucas will kill him.
Cold, throat closed, Lex nodded very slightly and said, "Carry on."
The boy swallowed hard and turned back to his friend. He tore the shirt into strips and quickly bandaged the wound. When he was done, he turned and rose.
"You're one of them," he said softly, not meeting Lex's eyes.
A smile flitted over Lex's lips. "Aye. First mate, Lex Luthor. Captain, now, at least until we arrive in Louisiana. And you are?"
"Clark Kent."
He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to him. "Have you forgotten ship's protocol already?"
Clark stiffened and looked up. Seeing that Lex was serious, he straightened his shoulder and saluted. "Clark Kent, Captain."
"Very good." Lex ran his eyes over Clark's half-naked form, careful to note the breeches he wore were torn and ill fitting. His eyes flicked to Whitney. "And he is?"
"En … Whitney Fordman, Captain," Clark stumbled. His cheeks colored and he lowered his eyes once again.
Lex nodded slightly. An ensign, but an injured on. Young, as well. He was probably not threat, although the wise thing to do was kill him anyway. If he were to survive, there was always a chance he would make it to the nearest colony and report the Luthor's behavior to the governor their. With Lex's luck, the ensign wouldn't remember anything except the color of Lex's hair, and within days, there would once again be a bounty out on the "Flame-Haired Pirate, Alexander." This time, however, Lex highly doubted Father would bother making his case to either the king or governor, not with Lucas.
And yet, Lex simply said, "Do not allow yourself to slip like that again. From now on, Mr. Fordman lives before the mast with you. He is a nothing."
Wide blue-green eyes looked into his, and Clark nodded. "Aye, Captain. Thank you."
Oh, Lord, Lex wanted him. Wanted the innocence, wanted the strong, muscular body pressed into his, wanted the calloused hands to touch him. His eyes focused on the lips, and he felt his blood rise. It hadn't been a long time since he'd last been with a man--he and Damien had frequent liaisons in Lex's cabin--but that was different. Damien was a friend, his only true friend, and he served Lex in all ways without hesitation. But it wasn't … this. Lex wasn't drawn to his friend as powerfully as he was to this boy.
He licked his lips and swallowed, feeling parched. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen, Captain."
"And how long have you sailed?"
The eyes darkened and Clark looked away. "This is my first voyage. I was …" He trailed off.
Ah. A pressed man, then. Not too surprising, since the press gangs were always out in full force, except they normally preyed on drunks, and it was difficult to imagine this young man imbibing. "And you met your friend on the ship?" he asked, since that was the other thing that did not make sense. Officers weren't in the habit of treating the crew well, and the lengths Clark had gone to to save Fordman were extraordinary.
"No. I knew him before."
"I see." Unable to help himself, Lex reached out and touched Clark's face gently.
The boy stiffened in surprise, but immediately relaxed. He looked more quizzical than scared, and his eyes roved Lex's face, searching for answers.
"Brother!"
"Damn," Lex swore. He turned just in time to see Lucas emerge. "Yes, Lucas."
"I heard you were looking for me?" Lucas wasn't even looking at him; as soon as he'd joined them, his dark, possessive eyes had fastened onto Clark, just as Lex had suspected they would.
"Yes," Lex said, fighting the urge to stand in front of Clark to shield him. "Father wants us to take the ship to Louisiana."
"Will he be staying?" Lucas pointed at Clark.
"Yes."
Lucas smiled, and Lex had to suppress a shudder. The smile promised pain and humiliation, two of his staples. If Lex did not intervene in some way, the boy would face serious harm, even if he consented.
"Good."
"Captain?"
"We're here, Damien." On impulse, Lex took Clark by the wrist and pulled him from their hiding space.
Clark followed docilely, twisting his hand so his fingers brushed against the inside of Lex's wrist.
Shivers raced up Lex's spine and he firmly chastised himself. Now was not the time to be thinking about sensual pleasures.
Damien was waiting for him. His eyes flicked to Clark momentarily, before returning to Lex's face. "Captain Luthor is ready to depart."
"Is everything in order?"
"Aye."
"Very well. I'll give orders to set sail. I need you to take the young man behind those containers to the surgeon."
"He is in the brig."
"Then remove him from the brig to attend the man, and then return him. It is one of his own; he shouldn’t have too many objections."
"Aye, Captain."
Keeping Clark close, Lex climbed out from lower decks. The crew was preparing the sails as he made his way across the deck.
"Are we ready to set sail?" he asked Sullivan, who was apprenticed to the sail master on their ship.
"Aye, Captain," Sullivan answered. "And the crew is ready to do your bidding."
"Then set course, and be off. I'll be in the captains cabin. The crew can have their funeral rights at … Five bells. Have them continue with their standard rotation." He paused, eyes scanning the deck. "What is Nixon doing here?"
Lucas, who was running his hand up and down Clark's bare arm, said, "I brought him over." He smiled charmingly. "Father told me what we were taking the ship before I found you. I thought it only fair I bring some of my mates over as well, since you were bringing yours. Rickman is aloft."
Lex glanced up into the rigging; sure enough, Rickman was working the sails with the crew.
He said nothing about his countermanded orders, instead telling Lucas to, "Stay and watch the crew. I'll be in my cabin." Then, his fingers curling around Clark's wrist once more, he left the deck and went into the Captain's Cabin.
***
Any comments, suggestions, etc. on how to make it better and whether I should continue would be appreciated.
So, after all that confusion about what to do with the next COTW, I think I'm going to break it into 2 parts anyway. Which means 3 fics come out all at once. It's not that I think it's too long, exactly, but the plot breaks up. There's a lot I have to deal with in Smallville, and then he goes off to Metropolis; I think the Metropolis stuff has to be set on it's own, but under the same title as the first. I'll have to wait and see how it reads, which I will as soon as I stop dragging my heels and actually *write* the darn thing.
In other news, I started my fic for the Historical Fiction challenge. I'm going to do something I've never done and post what i have (unbeta'd and just written) just to see what people think. I'm still thinkig about writing it, and trying to decide small things (like if Lex should have hair), but I'd thought I'd see if anyone had any suggestions. This is the first time I've done a total AU before, and I don't know how I'm doing.
It wasn't until Lex had actually boarded the other ship that he realized they were attacking an English ship. Which meant that they'd turned pirate. Again. Without consulting him.
This was getting ridiculous. Yes, when all was said and done, piracy was more lucrative. Actually, Lex enjoyed it more; there was more freedom, although, unlike most ships, his father still ruled with an iron fist. Which was why, the moment they ever docked in England, his father went directly to the king, a humble apology on his lips, and a trunk of gold that was enough to buy forgiveness and a new Letter of Marque. All so he could keep control over his men instead of giving it up like all the other pirates.
He picked his way carefully over the blood soaked dock of the defeated ship. They'd put up a fight, but had been quickly subdued. The blood was from the executions after.
"Leave no officer alive," his father had ordered, and Lucas, always thrilled to get dirty, and gleefully shot them all. Slowly.
Well, they had time. Lionel had ordered that the booty be transferred to the "Lady Lillian"--their ship--and the "Persephone"--the ship they'd attacked--inspected to make sure it was still sea worthy.
Lex had finished his inspection under the wary eyes of the crew. They were subdued, which was good, since Lex didn't want to have to kill any of them. If the ship could sail, he would need a crew to get it back to Jamaica. They'd sell it to the highest bidder, and the crew would be compensated--after the Luthors took their portion, of course.
"How does it look, son?" Lionel asked as he crossed the deck to Lex.
"Everything seems in order, Captain. There was damage to the foremast, but it's not bad. She'll sail fine."
"And the crew?"
Lex's eye roved over the sullen men. Most were free and standing to the side, waiting to hear their fate. "They'll cooperate," he said. He had a good eye for these things and rarely misjudged a crew's willingness to serve a pirate.
"Good. You and Lucas will take control and follow me. We'll take her into Louisiana; she'll sell well there."
"The colonies, Captain?" Lex said in surprise. He'd assumed they'd go back to Port Royal.
Lionel's teeth gleamed briefly. "With any luck, we'll sell the ship and no one will be the wiser it was us to took her. Then, we'll restock, and go out on the account again just in time to net us a Spanish galleon. For king and country, of course."
"Of course," Lex replied dryly, catching on his father's game. "But, Captain, I think Lucas should stay with you. This is his first voyage, and …"
"And who better to tutor him than his brother?"
Lex raised on sun bleached eyebrow, but wisely said nothing. The truth was, he hated the little bastard, and hated the fact that Lionel had plucked him out of the whore house he'd been raised into to take to sea. There was something definitely … off about Lucas, and he had a feeling that it was that something that Lionel wanted to nurture. Lex, his first and only legitimate son, was ruthless, cold, and an efficient killer. He was an expert swordsman and had a deadly aim with even the most unwieldy musket. But, unlike Lucas, he didn't derive pleasure from killing. It wasn't his life's mission to take the lives of thousands of men and bathe in their blood.
To be honest, Lex wasn't sure if his father really considered Lucas' obsession with pain and death to be *good* or if he was simply intrigued by Lucas' lack of remorse or anything resembling common sense. After all, bloodthirstiness only helped in the middle of battle; the daily life of a pirate called for more decorum.
Of course, he didn't bring any of this up with his father. Instead, he nodded and said, "Of course, Captain. I will do my best."
"Choose five men to help keep this crew in line and take whatever belongings you want from 'Lady Lillian.' We leave in one hour." Lionel turned sharply on his heel and left, crossing the planks set up between the ships back to their own.
Lex looked across the deck at his closest companion, Damien. Without Lex having to say anything, Damien quickly crossed the deck to him.
"Yes, sir?"
"Round up the crew and tell them we are setting sail in one hour. After we depart, they may have whatever services they wish for their dead. Also, if you tell Hamilton, Sullivan, Trenton, and Dickens they are with us."
Damien saluted sharply. "Yes, sir."
"Have you seen Lucas?"
"I believe he's below decks."
Of course. The only think Lucas loved more than blood was booty, so it made sense he was still in the hold. Only, when Lex got there, Lucas was nowhere to be found.
Perplexed, Lex moved to the forecastle hold. Maybe Lucas was looking for prey before the mast; after blood and money, Lucas was also fond of flesh. It was almost fortunate that he preferred men--as did Lex himself--since, even on the off chance they stumbled across a woman at sea--the penalty for forcing a woman at sea was death. Even Lionel would be hesitant to waive that punishment because once you started allowing one man to get away with it, the other's got ugly. Lex knew that from experience; years ago, when he'd been but a boy serving as cabin boy, Lionel had bent the rules.
Lex really didn't enjoy thinking about that incident. He still had scars and nightmares that caused him to wake up in a cold sweat.
"Don't *do* this to me, Whitney," a voice said faintly. "Don't give up."
"Clark, it is all right. Tell Lana …"
"I will tell her nothing. You will tell her."
Curious, Lex picked carefully around the boxes that were blocking him the voices. He knew they didn't belong to his crew, and wondered if they'd, perhaps, missed two of the officers. If so, then the rest of the crew would have to be punished for concealing it from him. But, he really didn't think they had concealed anything. More than likely, they were regular crew who had hid during the battle.
He stepped around the last box to reveal his captives.
One was wounded and stretched on the floor over some netting. He'd been shot in the side, just above his hip, and the wound was bleeding profusely. The man was blond and bronzed from the son, dressed in a pair of tattered breeches that were too big for him, his feet bare and oddly smooth. He was slim and lightly built, but wiry. Most likely he was strong, but it was hard to tell right now. His skin was flushed, but sickly, sweat glistening on his brow, and face contorted in pain.
There was another man leaning over him, also shirtless. His shirt was, Lex assumed, the bit of beige that was under the blond man's head.
"Okay, Whitney, I've got it," he was saying. He had was looked like a pair of rusty metal tweezers, probably taken from the surgeon, in his hand, and was digging in the musket wound in Whitney's side. Blood seeped around it, staining his fingers, but his hands were fairly steady as he placed one on Whitney's forehead.
Whitney opened his eyes. "You do?"
"Yes. Take a deep breath and …"
There was a popping sound and Whitney screamed. His back arched off the netting as the ball was pulled from his side. The air was heavy with the smell of blood, sweat, and sickness. Lex doubted Whitney would last the night.
"Good. Good," the other man was whispering, even though Whitney had plainly passed out. He turned and picked up the shirt that was resting behind him. His eyes met Lex's, and he froze.
Oh, dear Lord in heaven, this man--*boy*, for while his body was that of a man's, his eyes were innocent and clear--was beautiful. It was not a term that Lex often applied to men, as he'd been terrorized with the term as a child, but it was true. There was not other word to describe the sculpted, strong, and somehow otherworldly face.
I want him, was the first thought that passed through Lex's mind, quickly followed by a myriad of visions of the boy, thoroughly debauched in his bed, eyes heavy-lidded, and skin glistening with evidence of their passion.
And then, the cold douse of reality hit him: Lucas will kill him.
Cold, throat closed, Lex nodded very slightly and said, "Carry on."
The boy swallowed hard and turned back to his friend. He tore the shirt into strips and quickly bandaged the wound. When he was done, he turned and rose.
"You're one of them," he said softly, not meeting Lex's eyes.
A smile flitted over Lex's lips. "Aye. First mate, Lex Luthor. Captain, now, at least until we arrive in Louisiana. And you are?"
"Clark Kent."
He raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to him. "Have you forgotten ship's protocol already?"
Clark stiffened and looked up. Seeing that Lex was serious, he straightened his shoulder and saluted. "Clark Kent, Captain."
"Very good." Lex ran his eyes over Clark's half-naked form, careful to note the breeches he wore were torn and ill fitting. His eyes flicked to Whitney. "And he is?"
"En … Whitney Fordman, Captain," Clark stumbled. His cheeks colored and he lowered his eyes once again.
Lex nodded slightly. An ensign, but an injured on. Young, as well. He was probably not threat, although the wise thing to do was kill him anyway. If he were to survive, there was always a chance he would make it to the nearest colony and report the Luthor's behavior to the governor their. With Lex's luck, the ensign wouldn't remember anything except the color of Lex's hair, and within days, there would once again be a bounty out on the "Flame-Haired Pirate, Alexander." This time, however, Lex highly doubted Father would bother making his case to either the king or governor, not with Lucas.
And yet, Lex simply said, "Do not allow yourself to slip like that again. From now on, Mr. Fordman lives before the mast with you. He is a nothing."
Wide blue-green eyes looked into his, and Clark nodded. "Aye, Captain. Thank you."
Oh, Lord, Lex wanted him. Wanted the innocence, wanted the strong, muscular body pressed into his, wanted the calloused hands to touch him. His eyes focused on the lips, and he felt his blood rise. It hadn't been a long time since he'd last been with a man--he and Damien had frequent liaisons in Lex's cabin--but that was different. Damien was a friend, his only true friend, and he served Lex in all ways without hesitation. But it wasn't … this. Lex wasn't drawn to his friend as powerfully as he was to this boy.
He licked his lips and swallowed, feeling parched. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen, Captain."
"And how long have you sailed?"
The eyes darkened and Clark looked away. "This is my first voyage. I was …" He trailed off.
Ah. A pressed man, then. Not too surprising, since the press gangs were always out in full force, except they normally preyed on drunks, and it was difficult to imagine this young man imbibing. "And you met your friend on the ship?" he asked, since that was the other thing that did not make sense. Officers weren't in the habit of treating the crew well, and the lengths Clark had gone to to save Fordman were extraordinary.
"No. I knew him before."
"I see." Unable to help himself, Lex reached out and touched Clark's face gently.
The boy stiffened in surprise, but immediately relaxed. He looked more quizzical than scared, and his eyes roved Lex's face, searching for answers.
"Brother!"
"Damn," Lex swore. He turned just in time to see Lucas emerge. "Yes, Lucas."
"I heard you were looking for me?" Lucas wasn't even looking at him; as soon as he'd joined them, his dark, possessive eyes had fastened onto Clark, just as Lex had suspected they would.
"Yes," Lex said, fighting the urge to stand in front of Clark to shield him. "Father wants us to take the ship to Louisiana."
"Will he be staying?" Lucas pointed at Clark.
"Yes."
Lucas smiled, and Lex had to suppress a shudder. The smile promised pain and humiliation, two of his staples. If Lex did not intervene in some way, the boy would face serious harm, even if he consented.
"Good."
"Captain?"
"We're here, Damien." On impulse, Lex took Clark by the wrist and pulled him from their hiding space.
Clark followed docilely, twisting his hand so his fingers brushed against the inside of Lex's wrist.
Shivers raced up Lex's spine and he firmly chastised himself. Now was not the time to be thinking about sensual pleasures.
Damien was waiting for him. His eyes flicked to Clark momentarily, before returning to Lex's face. "Captain Luthor is ready to depart."
"Is everything in order?"
"Aye."
"Very well. I'll give orders to set sail. I need you to take the young man behind those containers to the surgeon."
"He is in the brig."
"Then remove him from the brig to attend the man, and then return him. It is one of his own; he shouldn’t have too many objections."
"Aye, Captain."
Keeping Clark close, Lex climbed out from lower decks. The crew was preparing the sails as he made his way across the deck.
"Are we ready to set sail?" he asked Sullivan, who was apprenticed to the sail master on their ship.
"Aye, Captain," Sullivan answered. "And the crew is ready to do your bidding."
"Then set course, and be off. I'll be in the captains cabin. The crew can have their funeral rights at … Five bells. Have them continue with their standard rotation." He paused, eyes scanning the deck. "What is Nixon doing here?"
Lucas, who was running his hand up and down Clark's bare arm, said, "I brought him over." He smiled charmingly. "Father told me what we were taking the ship before I found you. I thought it only fair I bring some of my mates over as well, since you were bringing yours. Rickman is aloft."
Lex glanced up into the rigging; sure enough, Rickman was working the sails with the crew.
He said nothing about his countermanded orders, instead telling Lucas to, "Stay and watch the crew. I'll be in my cabin." Then, his fingers curling around Clark's wrist once more, he left the deck and went into the Captain's Cabin.
***
Any comments, suggestions, etc. on how to make it better and whether I should continue would be appreciated.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-06-03 04:39 pm (UTC)As for whether or not Lex should have hair... you could always have him shave it because he has been ridiculed too much growing up for his bright red hair. You know, the manly shave-with-a-knife thing.
no subject
Date: 2003-06-04 09:07 am (UTC)Mmmmm ... manly shave-with-a-knife thing. *imagines Lex shaving his head* I like the image. I *think* I know what I'm going to do, but I'll have to see how it works.
And isn't pirate fic great? The first 'real' novel I ever wrote was a pirate story; I still want to make it work someday, and I will. Right after I finish the vampire novel. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-06-03 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-04 09:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-03 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-04 09:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-04 09:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-06-03 07:27 pm (UTC)i sincerely hope you write more! i can't wait to read it!
no subject
Date: 2003-06-04 09:10 am (UTC)I think I might either take this suggestion, or at least a variation of it. As i said to someone else, I kind of like the idea of him having hair, at least at first, and then having to shave it later. But y'all have sold me on him shaving; my only idea was a "mysterious childhood illness", but I wasn't all that sold on it.
Thanks!
Found you!
Date: 2003-06-14 06:18 pm (UTC)I love where this is going and am very looking forward to seeing more. I had to friend you, if that's okay. I don't want to miss any of this!