Crow and Genevieve

Chapter One- Genevieve

"You must move quickly, Lady Genevieve!" A maid spoke to the woman standing in the surf, her ankles remaining dry with the sudden rush of water that tempted her skin.

 "Your father may just have your head if you do not show for another courting…" A woman who acted more as a sister than a timid maid commented while handing her mistress her shoes. The two ladies ran against the sand, dresses pulled passed their calves as they ascended the hill behind the Winslet family home. Accessing the building via the servant's quarters, Genevieve managed to remain unseen by those directly beneath her father's charge, and therefore managed to evade his heavy hand against her desire to leave Ironwall. 

"The men will be pleased with the gold…" Her maid attempted to ease her choice as the governor's daughter pursued her lips and pulled the dress made up of the silver fabric. "Silver it is…" Genevieve commented before slipping the garment over her corset and removing herself from behind the changing blind to be buttoned together. 

"I hear Count Bellcont will be in attendance...he has quite the reputation of a hopeless romantic…" Her maid spoke before pulling the dress impossibly tight and beginning to lace Genevieve into her dress and continuing to speak. 

"Sir Fraser Kent will also be present...rumors claim he is quite the hunter...speaks of his victories in his bedchambers beside his lovers…" Genevieve nodded in appreciation as her maid continued to express details she learned about the potential suitors for her friend and employer. "Your father has also managed to round two princes, a Duke, and an emperor interested in your hand…" 

"I would much rather be courted by any of their horses than these men for another night. They believe I will be impressed by their number of servants or years as a lover…"

"What is it you would want from them to be content, Lady Winslet?" Genevieve was asked as she paused, her eyes lingering to the sea in view of her window. The foam that formed at the foot of each wave made her linger for more than her leaden town of navy men and their wandering hands. 

"Something that simply does not exist…" Genevieve finally answered before hearing the violin sound in the ballroom beneath her feet. 

Sitting upon her vanity stool, the British beauty took a moment to try and decide how to present herself. She had pushed limitations of her father's patience many times before by acting as anything but a lady. Having seemingly forgotten her manners at dinner, applying rogue makeup to her fair complexion, and even having entered the dining room in her nightgown and nothing to keep her modest,  Genevieve seemed to enjoy her father's embarrassed expression. But on this night, she was unable to do anything more than obey due to her exhaustion. Exhausted from reading her days away and walking in the sand until she would fall asleep upon the beach, only awaking to the bright illumination of the sun coming upon her face. 

"Will you ever be able to find happiness, Miss?" Her maid asked as Genevieve applied her blush and lip scrub before setting her hair loose over her shoulders, waiting for it to be styled by her confidant. 

"Why should I have to find that in a man?" 

Her maid paused for a moment before bending down to her, her eyes locked upon that of her friend's. "What if I were to make you an offer?" 

"I am intrigued…" The governor's daughter commented while turning her focus to the woman. 

"If I were to give you one night away from the pompous arrogance expected from a woman of your station...would you then give one of these men a chance? "

"What if I do not wish to return from this new freedom?"

"As much as I would like to believe otherwise, a woman needs a man for protection. When your father is met with his end, you will be far too undesirable to those who would have happily courted you earlier. I am simply wishing to do what is best for you...as I know your mother would." The maid spoke while pulling a section of Genevieve's hair into a clip and completing her look. 

"Then what is the plan?" 

Genevieve descended the steps adorned in red satin, her hand lightly caressing the banister as she made her way into the ballroom full of suitors and their staff. When her father saw her in a presentable state, he gave a kind nod before returning to whatever conversation he had been present within. Meanwhile, Genevieve continued down the steps and to her first suitor-beginning a long night of introductions and faux smiles. 

As a lady in the modern seventeenth century, Genevieve had become an expert in smiling through her internal affairs; whether it had been the frustrating laces of her dangerously tight corset or the monotonous conversations of men she held no interest in. This night had tempted her limits to continue as a thespian, making her break for air during several moments, having to wait for her maid to orchestrate the proper setting for them to slip away without issue. 

This moment would come annoyingly stalled before her maid entered the room to pull her mistress from her misery. As her father was far too preoccupied discussing war strategies and brothels within walking distance, Genevieve exited the home she had spent each and every second in for the last twenty three years. 

As her maid had prepared a horse for their venture beneath the moonlight, they mounted this equestrian beast before Genevieve turned in finalization to the illumined room of those who had come to see her and delivered a smirk before disappearing from the grounds. 

Genevieve took in the sights around her as she clung tightly onto the waist of her co conspirator while furthering their escape. Breaking the rules her father had given her since birth, she became exhilarated as the horse was slowed by its lead rider and tied to the post outside of a tavern. 

The low light of candle lit lanterns sat on either side of the door as her maid caught her hand before allowing her to venture inside. "What is it?" Genevieve asked as her conversational partner twisted her face when looking towards her. 

"You cannot enter a place run and visited by commoners appearing as shiny as a sixpence…They will know you are born of money…" 

"I cannot enter in my corset alone!" Genevieve defended herself before being pulled from the public street and away from the eyes of bar patrons. Her maid, now being addressed by her name as they were away from the ears of other servants, Helene began peeling away the bodice of her friend’s extravagant dress until only the skeleton of the dress remained. Dressed in her corset now exposed and skirt hiked upwards to reflect the presence of a peasant’s fashion in her modern society, Genevieve was no longer the image of medieval wealth.

 “One final detail…” Helene spoke while taking Genevieve’s hair and setting the hair pin between her breasts. “The first sign of money, they will try and coerce you for every penny they can get from you…”

“What...what do I say to them? I have only ever spoken to lords and ladies…” Genevieve questioned, knowing the topics of conversation would be quite different from what she had been used to. 

“Perhaps begin with simple libations…” Helene began as they entered the tavern to find curious eyes analyzing them. For Genevieve, they saw a nervous woman hiding behind thick cocoa locks and warm chestnut eyes-and for Helene, they found a confident woman of burnt umber hair that appeared russet upon the candlelight. The women parted the crowd as they made their way to the back portion of the establishment where a man poured drinks for the nearby customers. Giving the newcomers sceptical looks, he allowed them the dark amber liquid poured from the barrels set at his side, watching them take the liquid with pride. Although she was a rather innocuous young woman, Genevieve held a throat of iron and a stomach of steel as she was able to out drink even her father at his most prized functions. This allowed them both to blend as they moved away from the tender of liquor and rested at the far corner of the bar. 

After a rather dull conversation alongside Helene, the ladies joined within the dancing of patrons making their way onto the street. The illumination that would accompany a stage having now been set by the stars above them and the torches around them, Genevieve and Helene became separated as they were claimed by different males and taken into dancing unlike anything the royal heiress had come to know until now. Learning quickly to the Irish river dancing moves their partners exhibited, she began to allow her guard down before being taken forward by a firm hand. 

Genevieve’s eyes came to a set of piercing blue orbs looking back to her with a quiet confirmation of having met before. There held an electricity as their hands came together in a simple touch and a fire that burned from a close proximity tempting them to give in to their initial response to each other. The man before her had been covered, however, wearing thick leather upon his torso and coverings of sable coloring that forced her to only theorize how he looked beneath the fabric wrapped around his physique. In a single moment, the man disappeared and was exchanged for one of rather mediocre appearance-and yet, reminding her of her night of freedom that she refocused upon when being left by her blue-eyed fantastical beau. 

As the crescendo built by a mix of drums and notes from a leaf-shaped pegbox known as a vielle, a sudden action seemed to set the crowd forward into chaos. Hundreds of patrons within the city began to run like mice away from rushing water, allowing Geneveive the sight of Helene being taken by two large men whom she had never seen before. Before she was able to tear through the crowd in an attempt to rescue her, she found her legs to have been swept upright beneath her-joining the direction of Helene as she was forced against her own motions and taken towards the ocean. 

“Silence her, would you?” One of the men spoke as he held Geneveive by her arms, frustrated as she cursed at them and demanded to be let down. The second man reminded him of the small distance they would have to travel before coming to their ship, one by the name of “Dead Man’s Raft”, the name lit dimly by the moonlight, but allowing Genevieve the chance to learn the ship’s name for herself. A rather cheeky name for a ship close to being dismantled by its weathered wood and ripped masts, it was horrifying to her nonetheless as she was brought aboard. 

When she pulled herself up from the sudden thrust to the ground, she was met with the sight of several crew members eyeing her as if she had been a piece of gold to their avarice fingers. 

“You must release me!” She spoke to them before watching the nose of a cutlass meet with her cupid’s bow. 

“That is no way to welcome our new guest…” A voice spoke behind the men as the small group parted to reveal a wicked looking man who appeared to be ignorant to the idea of hygiene. His hair matted and working as an accumulator of mud and dirt, the figure stood in front of her with the ability to intimidate her. “Perhaps we should learn her name...Perhaps we should offer her a meal…” The man spoke, walking around Genevieve to gain a proper look at their new piece of property obtained by force. It was clear that his words had been orchestrated to taunt her, a form of treatment she did not appreciate and was not accustomed to handling-and so she did not plan to.

“You are making a foolish mistake...I am-” As she went to give her name, she spotted Helene at the corner beside the other mariners upon the ship. She begged Genevieve to remain silent by shaking her head. 

“Yes, girl?” The man who now rounded back to her front spoke, irritated in having to wait for her to finish her statement. 

“I am not of any benefit to you…”

“Perhaps not...and yet...perhaps.” Her eyes narrowed at his inability to formulate an intelligent sentence. This observation among those she made in their clothes and her current location, made her understand that they had been pirates. 

“What is it that you will do with me?” She asked in a tremulous tone when realizing they had taken her for a selfish purpose that would be a secret to them. Genevieve had become petrified of what they would make of her; she had only ever experienced moments such as these in dreams crafted from novels written by dreamers of impossible adventure. Now, she was forced to witness this herself, but she was not stimulated as she was when reading the pages articulated by the novelists, instead, she was mortified as to what would await her. 

“Whatever it is I desire…” The man spoke before cackling towards her, a rather horrendous laugh that managed to enter into her soul and give her the memory of this sound indefinitely. “Klaus, take her to my chambers…” The man spoke before motioning to a rather young looking man who was frail in stature but determined in his being. Klaus nodded to the captain before bringing rope towards her direction. As she attempted to fight for her freedom, she found the blade of the captain’s sword to be presented to her yet again. “Do not be dense…” He warned as she was then forced upright by Klaus and her hands were constrained in front of her. 

“Walk.” Klaus spoke to her, revealing an American accent, before placing a flintlock against her lower spine and making her venture across the main deck and into a set of double doors into the captain’s quarters. When they were no longer among the mass of pirates that would end her upon hearing her voice once again, Genevieve attempted to beg her way to freedom. 

“Please, I beg of you to release me...There must be some mistake…I can give you whatever you wish…” Upon speaking this final comment, his brows lifted and his eyes ventured down her body. Despite the fact her corset had been damaged with dirt and torn from the wood she was forced upon when first boarding the ship, he seemed to desire her with lustful eyes and ill intentions. “I am still a lady!” She yelled at him as he approached her closely before setting the gun below her chin. 

“Make no mistake, girl...you are here for the captain...he will do with you what he wishes...and we are here to ensure his happiness...If you ever try to coerce me away from him...I will not hesitate to deliver a bullet to that pretty face with my gunpowder…” He spoke against her as she was then forced towards the bed, her body crashing upon the wooden structure constructed in the form of a bed. Crashing at her side and forcing her to hunch over in a wince, Genevieve tried to catch her breath before Klaus moved towards her. “Whatever men you may be used to...I can assure you, we are not kind.” With these words, Klaus allowed her to be alone with her pain, while also keeping her hands tied but her feet free. 

When she was sure that she had been alone, Genevieve managed to stand vertically and make her way towards the port window across the room, her heart sinking when realizing she was no longer set upon land. Nothing but the darkness of the ocean surrounded her as the sounds of the waves crashing upon the wood verified her theory of having been set sail without her permission or aforementioned knowledge. For a moment of lost sanity, Genevieve attempted to pinch herself awake by taking her hands to her thigh, revealed by a torn portion of her skirt, but realized this had been her true circumstances. The threadbare room she found herself in would now be her residence for an unknown amount of time that frightened her into tears. She knew men were wicked and selfish, she knew pirates were murderers and criminals...and now she was forced at the mercy of them all. 

Her heart began to race and palpitate in a contradicting pulse that left her breathless and dizzy while hearing the thick boots of the captain make their way to the doors in front of her. Immediately, her eyes began to scan the area for a weapon she could use to protect herself. But within this large room spread sparse with no more than a small chest and an armoire present with one door, she was left to her silent prayers. 

“Please...I am nobody...I do not ask for anything but my freedom-” She asked as he made his way into the room, pausing at the doors before removing his velvet jacket accented with gold buttons and black leather before placing it upon the bed.

“You are a very beautiful woman and you know this…” He began as he stepped closer to her in an attempt to seduce her with his words and intimidation-unaware of just how he had nauseated her. “You are a woman...a beauty…” he continued, unable to accumulate words made from impressive education and forcing himself to appear rather moronic. “I will not hurt you unless you try to escape...then my sword will end you...if not mine than Klaus or one of the others…”

She nodded slowly before clenching her jaw as he came close to her, the rancid scent of forgotten hygiene having made her repress vomiting in his presence. “You will be mine as I see fit...you will clean and sew...you will sleep at my side and obey my orders...or you will be forced to join others who defied me in Davy Jones’s Locker.” Although a new seafarer, she knew quite a bit about pirates from her sole hatred from them creating a loss she could never forget or forgive. Because of this, she knew the threat presented to her had meant death to her and Helene if she were to oppose, so without objection, she nodded once more. 

“Shall we begin?” The captain asked while delivering a smirk that made her uneasy.