Chapter Text
He could almost admit to prematurely missing the hatter’s daughter, she carried an innocent presence that reminded him of his younger years, back before the weight of the world pressed heavily against his shoulders. William Smee was as loyal to his captain as could be expected from a pirate with very few values. Most would offer up, their own mothers to hear the chorus of gold doubloons gracing their deep pockets, while Smee – he would deliver her, ‘gift wrapped’ accompanied with an ill written greeting card if he felt it would carry favour.
It was becoming clearly apparent, that to stay within the closeness of his leaders good graces, the portal jumper and the child /had/ to go. From the corner of his eye, he watched as light expressions rushed over the girls features forcing him to groan inwardly, his fellow crew men continued playing the fool, using overly exaggerated hand and facial gestures. “Imbeciles” the word whispered, as it focused deep into his broad chest.
-- / * \ --
"Have you come back to teach me more about being a pirate?--" Grace's confidence radiated not only from her smile but tone of voice. She stood proudly at the helm, continuing navigation guiding the ship upon course, whilst Clegg, the assigned crewman, offered acknowledgement to his captain’s return, by means of a subtle nod. "-- Sam agreed with what you said about me being a fast learner."
"Sam?" Killian’s quizzical glance, turned back towards the appointed individual while prudently circling around the rope railing; it was customary aboard any ship to address one another by their respected family name. "Ah yes, you’re already showing talent worthy of a true seam-"
"Ahem"
"-person, a true sea person."
The quirk in the hatter’s brow matched the deadpan tone signifying a mild annoyance "You might benefit watching your language around a particular young lady, should we continue going ahead with the voyage, captain."
Matching her smile, the young pre-teens eyes widened at the sound of her father’s voice. "Papa? Papa!" The swift motion away from her station, towards an open embrace, was almost missed if not for the sharp jolt steering the ship port side. Cargo and bodies alike, crashed aimlessly against the solid ship walls earning a chorus of groans and barely audible profanities. Thrown within the entanglement of limbs, Killian exchanged a double glance with Clegg before the pair scrambled and fought to regain order.
It didn't take long for the natural motion of the ship to fall back upon its intended course. Grace had taken to ducking behind her knees hiding the tell-tale signs of embarrassment whilst nestling closer to her father’s side "I'm /so/ sorry! I didn't mean to cause any trouble, I just ..."
"You just missed your father,” there was reassurance in the pirate’s voice, something that was would catch any other off guard; Grace too if she hadn't taken opportunity to see the man behind the fable. “-- he certainly has that effect on people. While you malady, have no need to apologise." Always the gentleman, Killian offered his hand assisting the adolescent to her feet, before flashing a wink towards the disoriented jumper and offering him the same courtesy "as for you, it appears the rum you partook with me earlier is retaining its hold."
Jefferson found himself struggling to hold back the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he relaxed into the possessive pull of the pirate’s partial arm encouraging their hips to lightly bump against each other. The faint scent of rum filled his nostrils as the out took breath caressed his cheek. "I wouldn't put it all down to that, though, it was 'lethally' potent."
There was an abrupt change in both men's demeanour as their attention was drawn towards the recently strewn crates. The subject of an earlier debate had begun pulling himself free in an unorthodox fashion, waving his knitted red cap as some kind of distress beacon.
"Smee! --" Killian's firm tone carried across the open deck, drawing the attention of the assembling crewman "it's about time you decided to show up."
-- / * \ --
The arms of the snivelling subordinate were pulled marginally higher than would be deemed comfortable allowing just enough slack for movement.
“Mr Smee let me tell you how this works. As you are tied to this delightful mast here, the boys are awaiting my command to poke and prod you, above the waist of course, with the pointer ends of their swords. For the game to adequately work and for our amusement, you’ll be required to dodge their attempts while Hayes here -- plays the fiddle for added encouragement.”
Resting his hand upon the string player’s shoulder, Killian took in the shared quizzical glances amongst his men as they moved to surround and taunt the man caught within their captain’s distaste. No man had been made aware of any allegations leading to such misconduct while at the same time they were not against some lively entertainment.
"B-bb-but Captain Jones please! What was my crime? Hadn't I made it my duty to ensure your trust? ... The Hatter! He's the one you should be punishing; he's changed you, used magic to outwit you ..."
"And he in turn will get what's coming to him, at consequence of /my/ hand." Killian's fingers pressed into the crewman's shoulder giving hint to begin, whilst glancing briefly back towards the stairwell leading towards the lower decks. Jefferson and Grace had been ordered, more fiercely than he had intended, to await his return within the designated cabin; though the following act was considered an facetious punishment, it was still no place for a child.
The realisation that his egotistical nature had created such a means for punishment seemed to sink in just as the opening tune of the fiddle began, blending with the sound of swords being unsheathed. The light hearted tune failed to offer enough cover for the hysterical pleas for help.
Managing a pained glimpse in the direction of his benevolent captain, Smee found himself forced to run and skip haphazardly around the central mast in order to fulfil his newest duty and dodge his comrades well aimed attempts. The humiliation of it all was one thing while the deep burns cutting into his wrists as the rope tightened was quite another; at the very least with this punishment he'd have chance to see another day.
The sound of the men singing began to ring through his ears, willing away the fleeting thought of sharing with the crew, their captain’s latest choice in bed mate. His motions began to slow as pain and exhaustion began taking hold, within the few minutes that followed his worn body simply gave in, hanging limply with his head fell to rest upon his chest. With the last of his energy he tightly closed his eyes willing away any potential tears, forcing a sharp hiss to sound through his crooked teeth.
"ALRIGHT, THAT’S ENOUGH" The silence aboard the deck was sudden, saves for the spaced out sound of blood dripping into a congealing pool and murmured groans of protest. "Now let this be a reminder to the next man willing to meddle within my personal affairs... The same leniency won't be given and I'll kill the bastard myself."
-- / * \ --
Motioning with a raise of his chin, Killian allowed the edging of his hook to trace lightly over the fine stitching of his partners coat. "Did your father ever tell you about our time together in Wonderland?"
-- / Fin \ --