The Sea's Archangel

By Cherilyn Ohlau

Blood And Gold is owned by ALS123

Fane cel Rau is owned by ALS123

Oliver Loran is owned by NightMagican

The Great Mouse Detective is owned by Eve Titus/Disney

"I will shew thee which is noted in the scripture of truth: there is none to that holdeth against thee with me in these things, but Michael is your prince,"- Daniel 10:21

"How much for your guns, Zepp?" "How much for the ammo?" How much for anything that was the way of being a merchant trader, asking and trading, bartering for money was the way a life for most of them. Michael van Zepp was proud of his business to his trades among the port, since that's when crewman came in from other ships asking for supplies when they needed most and that was the only way to get food on the table for him most of his days. Until he figured out he got extra money by sorting out fake gold and fake ammo to the very captains and crews of the ship. Seeking Zepp, was seeking a valuable asset to the those who carried the sea wind. Michael was not only popular near the shores, he came to the pubs for his usual meals and girls often talked to him, or at least fawned over his combed black hair, or his grey eyes, despite him being a grass rat. His jerkin was a dull dark green with grey lines, with a brown leather belt around it with a bronze buckle, and his pants were a dark brown, and his shoes were made from the finest leather, and a nice dark blue cravat to tie himself together. With the way business was going he could find a place to live in on his own soon.

"I'd like my stock examined, trader," A dark grey mouse said, his black hair in a widow's peak, and his eyes had a red tint. He was a captain as far as Michael could tell by the fine clothing, and the cutlass in it's sheath, and his dark black beaver hat came with a blood red feather and rose brooch. His long coat was black with a rose design on the collar and sleeves, with a silver belt around his waist, and his over-the-knee boots were well very well maintained, "Mainly my food and gold...I have salvaged an old empty vessel and came upon dubloons. I wish to know their worth and see if they are fake or not."

"Oh, I'd be very much obliged to!" Michael said smiling, getting off the box, and stood by the captain's side who gently held his shoulder, "My name is Michael Zepp, sir."

"Aren't you adorable?" Fane chuckled feeling his cheek, "And very well kept. Captain Fane cel Rau; I'll show you to my ship."

Michael thought he heard that name somewhere but he was just too happy to finally have a customer, he thought nothing of it. Fane took him up the vessel, and stopped when they got on. Michael was startled to see that they had raised the walk bridge even though he had thought it was a normal stock examination, "What...what are you doing-?!" Fane smiled.

"Giving you a job, my dear trader," Fane replied, "One much more rewarding," he knelt in front of Michael, taking his hand and kissed it. Michael recoiled in disgust feeling himself be tricked and slapped Fane's cheek harshly. Fane glared and stood up, taking Michael's wrist and gripped it. He smiled as the trader struggled, "I like your spunk trader...but it won't last for long," Michael winced when he noticed eyes were on him, and he was being aimed at by Fane's men. Michael glared at Fane, his ears flattening, "How about we work out a little deal?"

"Y-you're a pirate, aren't you?!" Michael glared, shaking.

Fane chuckled, "You've finally caught on, but unfortunately, trader, I'm afraid I can't let you go. You see...meals and getting extra numbers to my crew is much harder nowadays since they either run, or I have to kill them. And I'd like it if I didn't have to endure casualties." Michael shook his head pushing through his men and tried to jump ship but Fane grabbed his collar and pulled him down.

"Ugh! I refuse to work for--"

"I'm sorry, dear trader, that the thought of a deal with the Fane cel Rau has troubled you so dearly," Fane said, "But like I said, I want extra numbers without casualties. And since people are so afraid of me," he shrugged, "Why not seek out the best man of words on port and have him work for me? No messy hands, no bodies to be thrown. You bring me what I want and I shall let you go."

Michael became panicked and shifty, if he refused, he'd die. But if he agreed he'd...

"You are the best out there, Zepp," Fane let go of his collar and went in front of him and sheathed his cutlass, "A man of words and appearance, they'll flock to you easily, trust me," he smiled, "If you refuse my deal; I shall have your body drained and have your mere cold corpse out to sea."

Michael swallowed, staying silent.

"Trader, answer me."

"I...I..." Michael felt tears swell, the choice was difficult. Fane and his men were staring at the merchant with anticipation, there was only silence, only the soft sounds of the ship flags ruffling against the shore wind. Fane shrugged at first, figuring Michael was just going to be another trader he'd have to kill. Fane slowly lifted up his blade to slice his head off his shoulders until the trader yelled out, "I'll do it!" Fane unsheathed his cutlass, satisfied with the answer. He snapped his fingers and the bridge was brought back, Michael weakly looked up at the way off the ship. 

"Don't think of escaping our little deal, Zepp. I shall have a few of my men keeping an eye on you," Fane warned, "Bring me a few traders to my vessel. Understand?"

"Y-yes...captain."

Michael was brought down back to the docks, he all ready felt his guilt swirling and simmering underneath. The thought of deceiving the other local traders and onto Fane's ship made him sick, but he had no choice, saying no was death. And the last thing he wanted was to die when he was still young. Fane's men kept an eye on him near the street corners as Michael fidgeted nervously looking at the other vendors and traders. "Well look who it is...! The prince of trade!" One of three traders said, "Michael Zepp...!" Michael swallowed as he looked at them, his mind going absolutely blank, and his head felt like it was going to implode just out of sheer guilt, "Dear lad, what's that look fer? Come here and sit down, we can perhaps have a chat a few with the famous Michael!" The trader chuckled and nudged the others.

Michael fidgeted at his fingers more, and became interested at the ground, his ears stayed flattened and his tail swayed, "Um...actually, I need some help..." He mustered nervously.

"Help? Help with what, lad?" 

Michael found it hard not to break into tears, but he took a deep breath and held it in. If he was going to trick these traders, he shouldn't be showing that he was leading them into a ruse, "This, um, this captain's cargo is much too big for me to examine and I'd like the extra help. I'll give you twenty pounds each if you help me."

"Really now? That big of a vessel?"

"Must be a blimey battalion ship!"

"S-something like that..." Michael added, "Please come with me, I promise it'll be worth it."

"Not like we can't trust your word, you're reliable!" The trader and got up with the two others. Michael started to feel his nerves cracking. Reliable, trustworthy, someone to look upon, now he was reduced to tricking others. His conscious was slowly eating him away, and his stomach began to turn. Michael brought them up to Fane's ship where they were met by the arms of his men.

"What's all this?!" The trader snapped in agitation, "Zepp, what the blimey hell did you do?!" Michael stood there, shivering and trembling, "Answer me, you goddamn brat! What deal with the devil did you do to us?!" 

"I..."

Fane placed his hand upon Michael's shoulder, smiling, "This wonderful trader has mainly helped me with my problem after, shall we say, five years worth of searching; I finally found an obedient little helper," Fane leaned forward and nuzzled his cheek, "He's a delight to the eyes as well."

"Y-you're Fane cel Rau!" The trader yelled, "Michael! You idiot! How can you let such a man fool you like that! I thought you were smart!"

"Silence, you poor fool. Or I'll blast your head," Fane threatened.

"Michael-!" The trader cried, "Don't just stand there! Do something, anything-!" Fane shook his head in disappointment; snapping his fingers, the men were soon being dragged to the doors that would lead to the brig, the dungeon cells, "Michael! I wish a curse upon your life...! You've earned it-! Michael...! Michaeeeel...!" Michael cringed the moment he heard the doors slam, and he felt the tears slowly fall upon the wood. Fane smiled at the trader.

"Meet me in my cabin," Fane said as he started to leave to another door,"So we can discuss." 

Michael stood there stiff in tears, before he slowly wiped them away. He had done what Fane had wanted, perhaps he would be let go and now suffer from this guilt. He went to the cabin and opened it, and walked in quietly. He took a deep breath and looked at Fane. "I...I did what you want..." Michael gasped out, and shivered as he stood in Fane's cabin, the crackling of a large hearth that held many irons for branding laid inside just waiting to be used. He felt nervous looking at them, but the agreement was met, he brought three traders in. He convinced them to get inside and examined nonexistent stock only for men to drag them to the dungeons down below. Michael had enough, he didn't want anymore of this, "Pl-please captain...I just want to be let go." Fane stared at first before he broke into cruel laughter.

"Look at you, trader," Fane cooed, licking his lips, "Absolutely gorgeous."

"Please captain..." Michael whimpered, "Don't do this...I just want to leave and go home..."

Fane tutted as he took off his shirt and shoes, and then walked over, he leaned upon Michael's back so the trader could feel him. His strength, his power. Oh, how he felt so small and weak to this monster. Michael closed his eyes as his pants felt invaded by his hands and let out a gasp, "Now, now, dear pet. Don't fret," Michael found it hard to calm down to Fane's feigning of comfort, "It won't hurt much; who knows, maybe in return you'll be licking my cheek begging to be laid nightly." Michael shook his head, his entire body shivering, he yelped in surprise when his neck was licked.

"Please don't..." Michael begged, but he closed his eyes and winced, heat going up to his cheeks when he felt a forced pushed inside after his pants had been slid just enough for Fane to invade him, "Ugh...!"

Fane licked his ear, "I'm afraid my practice does not come with a loving touch. Do try to get used to it, you'll be feeling it every time I call for you."

The act was hard to endure, Michael was in more pain than he'd imagine, Fane was forceful and didn't care about his partner needs. Michael gasped when he felt a pull and caught his breath, relieved, but he felt so broken he was on the brink of tears, and started to choke and whimper. Fane pulled up his pants and noticed, feeling irritated he went to one of his crewmen outside the chambers, "I do not do comfort, I was hoping he'd be a lust slave but we have a long way," Fane said irked.

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

Fane paused and looked back at Michael who was weakened, before looking back at his crewman, "Put him in a cell; place him in Oliver Loran's cell, I want him alive after all. Perhaps that idiotic first mate can salve his pains."

"Does this mean you're keeping this prisoner alive?" The crewman asked.

"He is after all my pet, he gets special privileges that no one is in that crap hole can," Fane replied, "Place him back in his slave clothes, and put him in with Loran before he starts begging for affection."

"Yes captain."

Oliver smiled and stroked his hair, "It wasn't your fault. Come on, are you sleepy?" Michael slowly nodded. The prisoner pointed to the wall and Michael squinted seeing a hole that was big enough for one person to squeeze in, but it was made for two as though just in case, and the bottom was made out of hay. The only comfort they'd get out of this horrible place, "You go in first, it's much warmer in there." Michael didn't question it as he carefully crawled over, and nearly fell when his legs felt they were about to give, but Oliver grabbed his arm, and held him close. Michael felt his heart go rapid and heat rise to his cheeks, "Clumsy at first," Oliver chuckled and helped him over. Michael carefully slid himself inside, despite the darkness, it felt warm. He was startled when Oliver slid in with him, and held him tightly, "It's all right, you have me now. I'll look after you..." Michael held him close in return, tears going down.

I...I have you....out of all this hell, in the end, I have you.

It was hard to count the hours, no less if it was night or day, since everyday felt like night if it weren't for the dim lamps just above the cell. Oliver was woken up by Michael's sudden sobbing and whimpers, his head felt groggy, "Ohh..." He moaned trying to adjust at what hour he had woken up on and he looked down at the trader, "Shh...Michael? Michael. Please Zepp, wake up," Michael's crying faded and he looked up at Oliver, "Nightmares?"

"Guilt, mostly," Michael said sadly.

"I told you, you didn't have a choice. If you turned the other way, you would've died. That's how it is out there on the high seas," Oliver sighed when the trader broke down again, "Look Michael...if I rubbed your back as you sleep, will you feel better?" He asked tiredly, "Feels like blimey two in the morning." Michael said nothing, his ears flattening. Oliver kissed his head and gently rubbed his back. Michael found himself staring at Oliver, and they both got lost in each others gaze, a sense of hope came from the other even if the brig was bleak and black. Oliver sighed and continued to rub his back, "Please just try to get some sleep. Do it for me?" Michael nodded and laid back down on the hay bed, but laid his head on Oliver's chest. 

Criminey, school crush this ain't, Oliver thought in embarrassment, heat going up to his cheeks before he ended up falling asleep himself. 

Fane looked over the cage charts in his room, before looking back at his maps and files regarding traders and their crew. Thanks to the men Michael lured in they gave out information that they needed to pillage--although with Zepp's handiness--they could trap a bird and kill it. It was about time Fane taught his pet about the rewards of his deeds, a little spoiling and pampering here and there would soften Michael up. "Bjarni," Bjarni was a tough muscled black mouse with a red tattoo across his chest in the shape of a burning horse, one of Fane's loyal crewman and one of the most dangerous to cross with. Bjarni stood up from one of Fane's cabin chairs and looked at his captain, "Tell the chef to make a meal for Michael, bring it up here so he could eat and understand he gets spoils if he behaves."

"To be honest sir," Bjarni started, "Permission to speak, captain?"

Fane waved his hand, and placed it back on the shoulder of his chair nonchalantly.

"I don't trust this trader you decided to pick up. You know what they say about the quiet ones. You say he's a man of words, that might work against you some day, this man will make a bloody mutiny upon you and the number of prisoners-"

Fane burst out laughing, "You really think one measly trader will have that much power over the prisoners?" He reclined in his chair and felt his hair, "Although I can't deny he has leadership qualities underneath..." He gently felt his chin, "The bird needs to be clipped before it'll fly away from it's master, perhaps...do we still have that torture mask?" 

"Which one, captain?"

Fane chuckled, "The bird face one with the curled beak, and long tongue, and those idiotic eyes. I want Michael to lose his leadership but keep his charms, a matter of humiliation is called for in the near future if he ever dares speak up to me."

Oliver slowly stirred and stretched tiredly in his cell, hearing the wood of the ship creak and the clash of waves just below. He looked at Michael who continued to sleep tiredly, and Oliver felt a sense of solitude watching him rest so peacefully. He gently stroked his hair and back and finally vaguely saw his brand. Big, long angel wings that went down to his back. He could only imagine the pain he must've endured from Fane. He slowly and carefully, reclined himself, and sat up, being careful not to hurt Michael he shook him gently. "Zepp...?"

"Ugh..." Michael woke up and looked around before he sighed, "So, it wasn't a dream, I really am on a pirate ship as a sex slave." Oliver felt his cheek and moved aside so they both can lean against the cell walls, Michael joined him and looked down at the floor sadly.

"Michael, you've got to at least have some hope in order to survive this place," Oliver said, "If you don't it'll end up...j-just look, allow me to be your angel, okay?" Michael looked at the prisoner in confusion.

"What?"

"I want you to look up to me when you feel weak; I know it's not easy being prisoner but I've learned a few tricks," Oliver reassured him.

"I...I...can't possibly," Michael said his cheeks becoming red.

"You want to give up?"

Michael's ears flattened, and he was pulled over. Michael soon now noticed a musky smell coming from Oliver, it was natural and comforting. The prisoner had wrapped his arm around around the trader's waist, it was a nice temporary solitude until this place would come alive. Then that's when Michael would soon face his real fears. 

"Don't give in, all right?" Oliver said, "Never give up and never give in to Fane. It's how he'll control you. You have to fight back."

"N-never give up..." Michael repeated, stammering. Oliver smiled, about to speak up until he heard thick boots slowly walking pass the cells. He looked at Michael and held him much closer in a protective embrace, his hair standing on end with a fierceness in his eyes when Bjarni stopped at their cell block. Bjarni brought the lamp up and laughed at the sight.

"Ohh, well, making friends are we now?" Bjarni chuckled, "Don't get too comfy with that trader, Loran. Zepp's his pet. And I suggest if you don't want to be killed, that you best be not getting too close. He's reserved, rather, off limits. So you won't get a good lay out of it would you, eh?" Oliver glared.

"You'd think I'd lay with this man, after Fane brought him to his knees and made him sob?" He snapped, "Add more to his blimey trauma?! You might as well keep dreaming. I'm not as cruel as your captain." 

Bjarni only looked at him in amusement, "Hand the pet over, Loran."

Michael became panicked, not another lay while he had his blood drained too! Nearly driven to hysterics, Michael's breathing became rapid from fear, his heart beating fast that he thought it was like a drum, and his legs felt like it was reduced to nothing. "Pl-please no...please no....!" Michael cried out. Oliver held Michael tightly as he started to whimper, "Please no..." Bjarni got out the cell keys and opened the cell, he went to Michael and pulled his arm, harshly.

"You're coming with me!" Bjarni yelled.

Oliver fell over when Michael was yanked out from his arms. The thought of being separated made Michael's heart sink, he stretched out to Oliver, and he came running only for Bjarni to slam the cell door on his face and caused him to fall back onto the cell flooring,

"Oliver...!" Michael cried, desperately.

Oliver stood up and went to the cell bars, "I'll wait for you! I'll wait for you, Michael...!" He called, "Be strong for me...!"

Bjarni continued down the halls grasping Michael's shoulder in a tight, harsh grip so he wouldn't squirm out. "Tch, almost like lost lovers, you and that Loran idiot," he grunted. Michael said nothing as he was brought back to Fane's cabin to see a table with food, and two seats. Michael's heart sank further with dread. "Ugh-!" Michael cringed as he was forced to sit down. He caught his breath and looked at the meals before him, his stomach started to hurt from hunger, but he felt so terrified he could barely touch a piece of bread. Michael watched as Bjarni sat down near by, crossing his shoulders and legs. He sighed and looked back at the meal again. He missed his old home, his old job, how his father and mother were going to die of a broken heart back in port thanks to his greed. Michael sniffed and tried to hold back another set of tears. He never cried so much before, but after what he had experienced including being raped by Fane. He couldn't take it. Michael's ears perked up and flattened when Fane came into the cabin and sat down next to him. Michael turned his head away and tried his best to avoid eye contact.

"Zepp, do try to come around," Fane said, "The meal you see is made just for you, and you only. No other prisoner gets this treatment."

Michael didn't answer, he was too terrified to.

"Zepp..." Fane slowly pushed a plate in from of him, Michael could smell the fresh roasted duck and vegetables and it invaded his senses, "You're hungry, aren't you?" Hunger. Michael could feel his hunger, it was driving him off the wall, his mouth salivating and he was trembling, his stomach started to hurt from just the smell alone, "Go on, eat to your hearts content." Michael stared at his plate and slowly began to eat, using his fork and knife like he would back at home that made Fane smirk as he watched.

"Would you like some beer or ale?"

"B-beer's fine..." Michael stammered. Bjarni turned around and went to a barrel and got a glass. Fane kept watching Michael as he began to eat his meal, filling his stomach and stuffing a few dinner rolls in his pocket. Fane chuckled, Michael was adorable for prey. Awfully naive, but spunky, and those grey eyes...such grey eyes that pulled you right in. Michael quietly ate and drank without daring to look at Fane.

"You'll be treated wonderfully like this, if you follow my orders, and do as your told," Fane explained, "And you don't talk back to me...if you dare disobey me, I'm afraid you have to brace yourself for the consequences of your actions."

Michael looked at him, and stuffed an apple pieces into a napkin and stuffed in the other pocket.

"New clothes, delicious food, and I'll even get you a room of your own," Fane said, "What about it trader?" Michael finished his meal quickly, and downed his beer. Fane leered at him, "Answer me, or have you gone mute?"

"I...understand, captain."

"My captain," Fane corrected, smiling smugly.

"M-my captain," Michael repeated.

"Good pet."

Michael sighed, "I'm full now, um, my captain. Um...thank you for the meal," he said bowing. Fane looked satisfied, nearly licking his finger in anticipation to have another taste of his pet again, but he'd have to wait a few days from now, "Um, my captain, m-may I have a request?"

Fane's tail curled with anticipation, he was licking his finger more, "What is it, pet?"

"I'd like a blanket...for me," Michael lied, "Um, Oliver is just there to make me feel better." Fane chuckled, he could tell right through Michael, but he was amused at his attempts. However, he was his master. Perhaps he could pull a few strings.

"You'd like a blanket, pet?"

"Yes my captain."

"You know of the early trade system?" 

"Yes...give something in return, w-with equal value," Michael replied. Fane smirked.

"Sit on my lap, pet."

"Y-yes, my captain," Michael got up and reluctantly sat on Fane's lap, falling silent as it felt awkward, it felt disgusting and it just felt so wrong. Fane licked his ear, that caused Michael to wince, and gently stroked his hair. Michael whimpered quietly and tried to hold back the urge to strike him, "Ugh..." He grimaced. Fane's licks became more frequent, and Michael trembled. Disgusting...I feel so disgusting...

Fane licked down down to his shoulder and down to his neck, causing Michael to gasp when the fangs finally punctured him.

Oliver sat in his cell, watching from the bars. He couldn't get Michael out of his head, the welfare of the trader was the only decent thing he had in this prison. Meeting Michael gave him happiness, something that he had lost when he was thrown in a year ago. His ears perked up when Bjarni came back with Michael, Oliver sat up and allowed Michael to fall into his arms. Michael looked so exhausted and pale, holding onto Oliver as a way to support himself. "That blood sucking bastard drained you, didn't he?" Oliver snapped in anger, Bjarni suddenly threw in a large blue blanket into the cell, "What-?"

"Ugh..." Michael moaned and smiled at him, "You sh-shiver at night..." 

Oliver looked at him, tears going down, and hugged him tightly, "Idiot. You didn't have to trade your blood for a blanket for me!"

"I wanted to..." 

Oliver looked at him in surprise, he picked up the blanket and wrapped it around them both. Michael leaned in, and stayed within his embrace, allowing the warmth to envelope them both. Hours passed and the ship became active, screams, agonizing cries, and begs and pleas of death. Michael hunched in his corner and covered his ears, Oliver sat next to him and pulled him close.

"Over the mountains

Love will find out the way," Oliver gently sang. Michael recognized the old tune as it was often sang by other sailors, along with other songs like The Gold Vanity near port when they were celebrating. But Oliver wasn't singing this particular song for celebration or even victory, not even to court. It was to soothe Michael through the horrors around him,

"Where there is no place 

And will find out the way..."

Michael stared, rather fascinated, "Y-you sing?" He looked around making sure Bjarni or another one of Fane's crewman didn't notice, pulling the covers over them both; Michael pulled out a the three dinner rolls from his pocket and offered them to Oliver. 

Oliver's eyes widened in surprise, but gratefully took one from Michael's hands, "Oh, Oliver, please take the other rolls. My stomach is full from the meal Fane offered me."

"No, keep them...we need them for rations."

"But they'll be stale by tomorrow!" Michael said in surprise, "Please, Oliver, you must fill yourself up with what I can offer. I can see how thin you are, it makes me ache. Please take my food," he added pulling out the apple pieces from his other pocket, "You need to eat...!" Oliver saw tears going down in Michael's eyes.

"You care about a stranger this much?" Oliver asked softly. Michael shook his head.

"You're not just a stranger to me!" Michael replied, "You're all I have...you're all I've got..."

Oliver's expression softened, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," he said, "I got you in tears again. I'll take your food, it's just been hard to keep yourself well fed, the only thing we're ever fed is scraps and gruel from a metal bowl like dogs," he pulled the blanket off and pulled Michael closer, "You truly are something to put your life on the line, but please understand," Oliver said taking an apple piece, "This is Fane cel Rau, one of the most blood thirstiest pirates to ever sail the seas. Michael, as of now, you mean the world to me," Michael's cheeks felt hot as he looked at Oliver, "I don't want him to kill you."

"We'll find out a way..." Michael said softly.

Days slowly passed onto weeks, and Michael had to endure nightly lays from Fane when he was in the mood, these acts of losing his blood worth and giving his body was for food and necessities he and Oliver needed. A large bale of water for bathing including soap, food and meals for their cells but Michael often smuggled breads and fruits into his pocket that only he and Michael can share, extra hay for the sleeping hole, and even an old worn out captain jacket big enough for them both to be inside. 

Two...it was always two. Fane found this agitating but he figured, his pet was just bonding in order to salve his pains like Oliver would. Oliver was just a friend after all, but something underneath the waters had to endure that Michael was keeping loyalty. Sex and exchange was no longer enough at this point, Michael had to use his skill of trade. Michael was asleep with Oliver the moment Bjarni suddenly came in, startling them both. "Pet, you have a job to do..." Bjarni said.

Oliver glared, "What job? He's used for sex and blood only isn't he?" Michael caught on quickly, shaking his head.

"No...no-! Not more lives to trick...!" Michael yelled, "Please, you have to tell Fane I--"

"I don't think you have a choice. You know his rules and he is your master!" Bjarni retorted. Michael slowly closed his eyes, Oliver looked down and moved aside as Michael was forcefully grabbed by Bjarni causing him to cry out, "You should know better! Perhaps it's best we get a collar around that delicate neck as an extra reminder to what you are!"

"Don't talk down to him like that!" Oliver yelled, "He's not used to life as a pet, no less a prisoner, you goddamn lummox!"

"And you stay out of this! You old first mate!" Bjarni snapped.

"H-he better come back alive or I swear, I'll figure out a way to kill you!" 

"I'd like to see you try," Bjarni challenged, "Come on, Zepp."

"O-Oliver..." Michael mustered weakly as he was being dragged and reached out his hand, and Oliver stretched his in return only for it fall out of reach for the other to grab. Bjarni shoved him into the captain cabin where Michael soon met the floor, "Ugh...!" Fane slowly walked over in front of Michael, holding a riding crop, and knelt down next to him and gently felt his chin with it.

"Pet?" 

Michael whimpered.

"Pet," Fane cooed, "You know the agreement we had. We had an understanding. This is only part of your job, and I promise you'd get a hefty reward out of it. The bigger the job, the bigger the reward. Doesn't that sound promising?"

"Do I really have to trick more lives aboard your ship?" 

Fane smiled and whipped his cheek harshly, causing him to cry out and fall back unto the flooring. Fane laughed at the sight. " 'Do you really'?" Fane mocked, "Of course you do, as I said before, pet. We had an understanding..." Michael's cheek was throbbing, as he slowly looked up at Fane, "Now listen to me, an army ship coming up and I need these men for feed and extra men. Strong men really do come the most handy, if not their blood is pretty savory and heavy due to their training. So I need you to lure them on."

"I-I can't I-"

Fane felt his cheek with the riding crop, "Do have faith in yourself, pet. You can lure these men over, you are so very tempting, who would resist an angel like you? Men on the sea have urges after all, and if you can convince them we offer room on our ship for them to rest upon they'll surely ease their weapons and come right in without a care."

Michael shook his head. Fane's patients was running low with Michael, grabbing his neck and hoisted him up from the ground and shoved him against the wall hard, causing him to yelp. Fane slowly gripped Michael's neck causing him to choke. 

"You'll do as I say, pet. You value your life, do you not?"

Michael just slowly nodded. Fane kissed him fiercely in response, "Good little pet! Now we shall move onto your first phase; you get to play 'captain'." Michael looked down sadly, he knew what was coming and couldn't stop it.

He made into captain garbs and dolled in his own beaver hat, the cutlass was made from fake metal but it gave out a familiar shine, and he was dressed almost from head to toe in a brilliant red and his beaver hat came with white feathers. Fane smiled at the display and heard the horn go off by one of his men that a ship had stopped. Bjarni slowly went up with Michael to the main deck and saw the ship next to them was a fleet ship. Michael noticed at the very end that Fane's ship had a figurehead in the shape of a gargoyle with a mermaid tail, he shook his head finding it oddly creepy and unnerving.

"Ahoy there!" The commander of the ship called from the other side of the ship, both had laid anchor and a bridge was set, "We'd like to come aboard your ship and have our men rest over just for tonight! You see, we'd like to perhaps borrow supplies as well. We promise to pay back if help us?" Michael looked hesitant to talk at first, Bjarni chuckled.

"Idiotic fleet...too many men to even hold in their beds."

Michael glared, he looked over at the captain cabin doors and Fane came out in his brown jerkin and pants. He leaned against the wall and watched, smiling, and crossing his arms. Michael sighed. 

"Are you the captain...?" The commander called.

"Y...yes! I'm the captain of this vessel!" Michael lied, Fane smirked, "I have room for you to stay the night, but including extra supplies. But how do I know you won't pull anything on us?"

"We just back from a sea war! We're exhausted to our bloody bones!"

Michael swallowed, and looked back at Fane who waved his hand before crossing his arms again. He looked back at the commander, "What shall we get out of it?" Michael called, "I will not let men onto this ship if they are pirates in disguise who have taken this fleet and want to pull the wool over me!"

"What do you want?" 

"Follow...follow my mate, Bjarni to the doors you'll see, and then I'll trust you."

Fane had followed the commander and his their crew down into the cells with Michael, holding his slave close. Bjarni brought down Fane's men him and had overwhelmed the commander and what was left of his army, "What's all this?!" The commander exclaimed as he was held by Bjarni, "I thought you were going to help us?! Aren't you the captain?!" Michael looked down in guilt, Fane held him closer.

"To the contrary, prieten, this here is just my precious pet..." Fane placed a hand to his chest, "I am the captain."

"Those red eyes, and hair black as a ravens; you're Fane cel Rau!" The commander yelled.

"So you've finally realized who I am but I'm afraid it's too little, too late. I suggest if you don't want to die by plank, or meet my blade, that you be part of my crew. Or perhaps your little soldiers will," Fane explained, smiling, "Perhaps my pet can tend to your needs and make it worth while."

"I'd never give myself to you! I'd much rather be dead than have pirate blood!" 

Fane shrugged, sheathing his cutlass. "Always the typical answer for a fleet captain. Noble to the end, it's a shame you shall never see the light of day...whether you have a family back home or not, means little to me, whether you have a home or mansion just waiting for your comfort you shall never reach, nor will sunlight touch your lips, or the moon lit night ever indulge your body," he smirked at the commander, "I suggest you count to three, and hold it." Michael covered his eyes the moment he heard the blade pierce through flesh, the deep shank sound of the cutlass impaling through and the commander gargling and sputtering before he collapsed on the floor. Michael found these sounds horrifying, and would not open his eyes. He choked gently before he started to weep, "Now, now, dear pet..." Fane tutted, "He was just a nuisance."

"He wanted help..." Michael whimpered, "He just wanted help..."

"Exactly, a nuisance," Fane replied, unsheathing his blade,"Now please stop your blubbering. You will be rewarded out of this. Such a deed and showing such loyalty, would you like anything?"

Michael wanted so desperately to be off Fane's ship. He wanted to be anywhere but here, even being captured by some Spaniards was better than his fate, but then he'd leave Oliver. And Michael just wouldn't be the same without his cellmate.

"I want a meal...for my cell." 

Oliver was startled to have Michael be pushed in to the cell back in his chemise and pants, and Bjarni placed down a mini table with almost a feast worth of food and fruits. "I'll come back for the table later, after you've finished. Consider this the beginning of your rewards," Bjarni added before he closed the cell doors and locked it and left down the halls. Oliver's face brightened at first but then he remembered what Michael had to do in order to earn such a thing. He looked over at Michael.

"What did-?"

"Pl-please Oliver, don't make me tell," Michael said trembling, "But we landed next to a fleet ship after it was returning from war..." He held his head, "My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my skills of trade are used for this. It makes me sick...! I...I..." Oliver gently took his hand. 

"No, you don't need to tell me," Oliver said and gently felt his cheek, "We need to survive," Michael still looked saddened regardless of his reassurance. They quietly at their meal together usually passing glances with each other. Michael couldn't help but feel curious about his cellmate, he was a first mate after all but Oliver never said "Yes" and add what crew what he was part off. Oliver took notice of the trader's stare and felt rather embarrassed, "Something on my face, Zepp?"

"No," he replied softly, "Which crew are you from?" 

"Oh, right," Oliver looked a bit shifty, "You heard I was a first mate a couple of times, haven't you?"

"Well, it's not like there's not much to know about me in here," Michael sighed, "My old trade life no longer matters."

"You sure?"

"I doubt going back to my old home and telling my father what I did won't earn me any pat on the backs," he looked at his place and pushed it aside, "I doubt he'll even consider me a son anymore." Michael leaned back against the wall and Oliver felt his cheek.

"You homesick?" Oliver asked and joined him.

"If ever seasickness and homesickness felt the same; that's the way I feel right now," Michael said.

"It'll pass," he said, "Besides, I'm not exactly in the mood to tell where I came from either."

"Why not? You're not a pirate are you?"

Oliver briefly paused before he spoke, "No, of course not," he replied. Michael scoffed in disdain and drank his beer.

"I hate pirates," Oliver's ears slowly flattened, "I let one trick me and now I'll never get my life back...!" Michael yelled, "I'm just leading people to be executed by this madman pirate! I'm starting to wonder why he chose me, why not let me die...why must I suffer...why must I let others suffer in order to get my needs?"

Oliver clenched his fist, feeling something in his heart ache and clutched his palm into a fist, feeling his body become hard and frustrated. His expression soon softened and felt his hair. "Zepp?" He asked, "Would you like to rest with me?" 

Michael smiled warmly, "You know I can never say no."

Michael slid into the sleeping hole first before Oliver joined him. He surprised Oliver by gently nipping at his neck and feeling his chest, he was glad it was rather dim so the shadow could cover him and none of Fane's men would notice such an intimate act. Oliver was lost in his feelings, feeling like flowers were blooming in his head, and fireworks going off, he panted and squirmed bringing Michael closer. They both caught their breath, and Oliver nuzzled his forehead as they both dozed off. Bjarni came in to take the plates, cups, and table and saw the two resting together. He stared for a long while and saw the content and eased look on Michael's face. Bjarni blinked and shook his head, feeling a heat in his chest as he brought the dishes to he cleaned. He was about to leave to his quarters when he bumped into Fane.

"Oh, I'm sorry captain," Bjarni apologized.

"It's all right, Bjarni. In fact, I've been meaning to ask you something," Fane replied.

"What of?"

Fane sighed, "How would you test your pet's loyalty if you had one?" He chuckled and traced a finger around his chest, "That isn't to say I don't give excellent providence to your needs, my wonderful strong steed," he added licking his lips, "How long has it since we even shared a lay in my chambers?" 

"Which one shall I answer first?" Bjarni asked leaning over and nipping at Fane's ear.

"Bjarni, Bjarni...!" Fane gasped as he felt his bodyguard's hands invade him, "N-not here...!" Bjarni stopped and Fane caught his breath, his cheeks red, "I forgot how your touch still drives me to the edge."

"To answer your first one, I suggest you make one of the fleet men his whipping toy," Bjarni said, "Make him spill blood...let him vent...let him embrace the smell."

"Let him spill," Fane smiled, and chuckled, "Everyone has a little wrath inside themselves. I'm sure my pet is capable of bloodshed as any other person would," Fane brought his hand up Bjarni's shirt lustfully, "But before my pet whips, I'd much rather play." Bjarni gently felt his cheek and Fane took his hand and took him to his chambers.

Michael was brought over to a new area of the ship soon as morning came, it was a lonely, empty, dusty old cabin with the sunlight peeking through. Michael swallowed when he noticed one of the fleet's officers was bare, restrained and blindfolded with his back to the wall. He looked at Fane who presented a deadly long whip. Michael caught on and looked at Fane, his ears flattening. 

"Has that man done anything to deserve such a fate?" Michael asked.

"My pet, you forget this is a pirate ship," Fane replied, "This comes with putting men in line and making sure they understand that they mustn't rebel," he offered the whip to Michael, "Pet, you've been so hard on yourself. Wouldn't you like to vent on someone who won't fight back?"

Fane slowly brought him over to the man's face.

"Go on and give it a nice crack before you strike, make it strike with all your strength!"

Michael stared also stupified, he was silent and gripping the whip. He stared as the man struggled in his restraints trying to survive.

"What're you waiting for, you bloody mongrel?!" Fane snapped, "Strike him!"

Trying to endure.

"Strike him!"

Trying to live.

"I command you to strike him, pet! Strike the blimey bastard!" 

Michael shut his eyes, and shoved Fane onto the ground, and slowly raised up the whip only to feel Bjarni overwhelm him and grip his wrist tightly and made him drop the whip. Michael struggled as he was restrained, "I told you this one would revolt against you," Bjarni said. Fane glared and sat up, and dusted himself up, Michael looked at the captain with hate and loathing in his eyes. Fane walked over and slapped his cheek, before he cupped Michael's chin.

"You are one of many who have tried to whip me into submission," Fane spat, "I offer you a better life in exchange for a few useless lives and this is the thanks I get?!" He yelled, his voice rising, "Pet, pet, pet," his voice quickly softened, "I have had a feeling you had a lot to learn about us pirates, especially me," Fane went over to a chest and pulled out a torture mask in shape of a bird. It's head was like a cage with a lock, with it's eyes looking downwards with tears drops, it's beak curled like a crescent and it's tongue hanging out, "You mustn't fight back against forces more powerful than you..."

Michael struggled as a cloth was tightened around his mouth and he was unable to scream as he felt the heavy metal over his face and the key click as he was locked.

This is what he was reduced to now. Michael could only wonder what they had in store, but his dread overweighed it.