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Gladion once swore to himself that he would never get into problems, mostly because he doesn't have the patience to deal with people or comeuppances and he knows he'd end up messing up one way or another. He's been strictly educated to follow the norm, to silently bow his head to anybody who challenges him if they have the upper hand. That if someone is holding a sword to his neck, he should instantly give in.
That's anything but what he's doing right now, disguised as a pirate as he infiltrates the enemy's lines. He's succeeded in knocking a pirate out with drive and intention he had never had before in the palace, and while the pirates had loaded the stolen goods into their ship, he had sneaked into their lines.
When they're about to board the ship again and he's planning how he'll go about all of this, a cold, chilling hand clasps around his shoulder and when he turns around, he sees a person with a long coat and a big hat staring at him with a menacing glare.
Their hand is slanted on the handle of a very shiny sword. In the darkness, Gladion makes out the distinct scowl of what seems to be a man."Where do you think you're going, blondie?"
Gladion is abruptly aware that he might just die tonight.
"I'm going to the ship. It's late and today's business is–"
"Don't fuck with me," the person says. Their voice is deep in disguise, it seems. It doesn't sound natural. "You don't talk like one of my men. That uniform looks horrible on ya'. I can smell expensive perfume off you, blondie."
It takes Gladion a few seconds to realize that, maybe, if he uses power talk as a weapon and makes this Captain realize he's talking to the Prince of the kingdom, they'll give him what he wants.
"You have my Father's compass!" As though that means nothing, the bandit arches an eyebrow. "You can't just take a family heirloom like that! Give it back or else!"
And much to his disgrace, this pirate isn't fazed at all by his antics. He remains motionless, rooted to the stone ground of the harbor. "Sorry, blondie, I have no time to deal with snotty posh kids and all that stuff. We got business to do and you're on our way."
The pirate straight up turns around and proceeds to leave before Gladion takes a step towards the pirate and swings his blade to the throat of this person. He succeeds at stopping the pirate's departure and not dirtying his hands with blood, even if it's from someone as despicable as this gross, ungentlemanly pirate–
"What is it? Are you a coward?" Gladion's voice quivers as he pronounces words he's not used to. "Fight me like a man would. That compass you took is mine. And I'm not going to let you take it away from me without putting up a fight."
Much to his surprise, the pirate continues to be unfazed by his threat but does turn around with a hand on the big, obnoxious hat, lifting it a few inches. Suddenly, a frisson of dark hair falls in front of the bandit's face and a lamppost throws a fortunate light to this pirate's face.
A woman; dark cold eyes, pale skin, and a gentle scowl. Under the jacket, there's a plethora of small badges and the handle of a sword full of gems twinkles under his eyes.
He's heard about this woman, he's seen her in papers and he's heard the rumors spoken about this pirate.
This wicked, terrifying and dangerous Captain.
"Captain Moon of the Eleven Alolan Seas at your service. Are you still gonna fight me like a man, blondie?" Her nails drum on the golden handle of her weapon. Gladion realizes she's not wearing her coat, but has it draped across her shoulders. "If you put one foot on this ship, the only way you'll make it back is as a corpse."
Her voice is thick, almost a whisper, more unmovable than a mountain and much, much darker than anything he has ever heard before. It holds a sharp edge that he can't shake off no matter the seconds that have passed since her response. His whole body feels cold.
He's just challenged a legendary pirate to a fight he can't afford to lose, and he briefly wonders if it'd be easier to let go of the compass or to fight her to get it back, even if he dies in the process.
He knows the people in the castle that stands at their back. They'd prefer he died in his family's honor. They'd kill him if he lets these people go without putting up a fight.
Moon's eyes have narrowed as her patience draws thin. Gladion gives a hollow response in its bravado. "Princes like me might wear fancy clothes, but we can still put up gritty fights like your people do."
She surveys him for one minute. The Captain searches for a crack in his armor, for a sign that he's just bluffing her – Gladion wonders if she'll see that, deep inside, he's terrified of such challenge – until she hums in skepticism.
"I couldn't care less about your motives, kid. I don't like posh, stuck-up brats like you. I'm not gonna let a weakling even breathe on my ship." Moon juts her chin in defiance. She's shorter than him but Arceus he feels about one foot tall. "Go back to your house before I get angry– unless you want a fight."
Moon whips her coat behind her and walks up the plank to her ship, but not before Gladion tries to follow after her to demand she gives his compass back– and then, arms curl around his shoulders from behind and yanks him upwards.
"Ma'am, what'cha doin' talking to this loser? He's gonna compromise our location if we let 'im leave scot-free."
"I'm not a loser!" Gladion retorts, expression twisted in anger. "Do you think you can just take what's mine without me saying a damn thing? You're wrong! If you want a fight, I'll give you one! Stop underestimating me!"
Moon turns to the bandit as Gladion thrashes and tries to get away. She dedicates him a few moments of thought, eyes narrowed again in an analysis that is anything but poised and gentle. That spark behind her eyes never fails to give him shudders, the bad yet exciting kind.
"He can cuss. That's cute. I guess he'll be good fodder for the sharks when I'm done with him," Moon concedes, waving her hand. "Knock him out. He's all bark and no bite."
Gladion tries to complain, tries to grab his sword and put up a fight, but his throat is abruptly constricted until his eyes are no longer open and he sags down, unconscious.
Gladion sleeps tied to a chair, constantly rocked by the tilting of the ship as it sails into the sea. He's woken up by a friendly pirate that asks him many things and answers to none of those Gladion asks. He just tells Gladion he will be merciful and kill him himself if Gladion pleads him to, because, apparently, whatever Moon is about to do to him on deck will be anything but merciful.
After a meager breakfast and a glass of water, he's brought to the deck where Moon is waiting. Moon apparently likes her challengers to be well fed for the fight to be fair, which makes Gladion wonder just how powerful this woman could be to go out of her way to be fair.
He looks around himself. There's no land around him. The pirate from earlier – who he has learned is named Hau – tells him that they're in a very specific spot due to the Captain's whims.
"She likes her victims to die on the sea. She says it's the best way to bury someone– under the sea. She ain't playin' around." For whatever ungodly reason, Hau grins. "That way, nobody can swim to land. She ain't into her playthings telling other people about what they've been through."
That's softcore torture Gladion would commend her for if it weren't for the way she's looking at him, eyes glinting under the overbearing sunlight. She's still wearing that long coat from the day before, so long and so big Gladion wonders how much of its use is theatrics and how much is pure utility.
"We're gonna fight to the death," Moon sentences, drawing out her blade slowly. "If you die, you die; if I die, I die, and you can take your compass back. No pleasantries, no bandages, and none of that nursing stuff. This ship isn't made for weaklings."
Her sword is clean and polished unlike what he had come to expect from this place. His heart throbs as everyone on deck begins to draw away from them, leaving to the back of the ship as others quickly crawl up the masts. Others hide underground and Hau has taken out a bucket and a mop.
Gladion has no time to ask her to take him back to his land; she dashes onwards and nearly pierces him with her sword, only for Gladion to leap back and clash her sword with his.
Moon's teeth are gritted as she speaks. "What are you doing here, blondie? If you thought you could just try to chase after us and challenge me like it's nothing, you're dead wrong!"
"I want my compass back!" He pushes Moon's sword away and she relentlessly chases after him. She only aims for places he knows to be vital: his heart, his side, his head. "It belongs to my family, it's like a treasure for us!"
Much to his chagrin, Moon grins wolfishly, succeeding at tearing the sleeve of his shirt off with a clean swipe. Gladion takes a step to the side, Moon dashes where he wants her, but before he can aim at her head and fully get into this fight, she lifts a leg and cleanly kicks him on the back to slam his body to the ground gracefully.
Gladion winces as his head spins for a short second. The whole ship seems to echo in his head as Moon drawls close, much like a viper. The blade of her sword stabs the floor right by his head, an inch away from his ear. He shudders accordingly.
Moon kneels right above him, grabbing a fistful of his dirty shirt. Her nose is daringly close to his. "I won't ask you again, what are you doing here?" Her voice is underlined by a thin growl. "This scene isn't for you. Rich kids should be sitting on a chair, all nice and quiet, not getting their ass kicked by a pirate."
Moon's eyes widen when she feels the tip of his blade poke her side.
"Don't think I will go easy on you just because you're a woman. You're not as undefeatable as you claim to be," he speaks, soft yet ragged. His voice is hoarse at the edges and her eye twitches. "And I owe no explanations to y–"
A flash of movement from her and, suddenly, the ground under him breaks and he falls into the ship with an ungraceful grunt. As he shakes free from the blisters and the dizziness that the fall had caused, he realizes Moon is following him in and that she's discarded her coat, aiming at him as he shuffles to get up again, shielding himself with his blade.
Moon had just broken the floor and she had thrown him one floor under.
Just how strong is this woman?
There's a menacing glint in her eyes that had been there before; now, though, that glint is like a black hole, enshrouding her expression in sharp murderous intent. "Stop playing with me!" He dodges her blade and fends her off. "You must be a spy from Lusamine! She sent you here to snitch on me, didn't she!?"
How does she know his mother's name and why does it sound so vitriolic when she speaks her name? "No! I'm here to get my compass–"
Moon impatiently shoves him to the floor again, but doesn't draw close. "Cut the bullshit! That woman took everything from us! She just wants to take all that's left and I'm not gonna let a spy sneak in!"
"I'm not a spy!" He yells back. Moon releases a huff of anger and their blades clash again until they leap off each other, then charge again. "I'm not even under Lusamine's strings! I couldn't care less about what she does!"
Her eyes widen for a second in surprise and then grow dark. "A-há. And I'm supposed to believe a spoiled brat like you is willing to run away from a castle full of diamonds and gold?"
"Yeah, because I fucking am!"
That's all it takes for him to go still, a clap of emotion that stills his limbs and leaves him frozen to the ground. Gladion has always known his home is far from ideal, and when he had suddenly taken the opportunity to leave, he had spent the whole night thinking about why he had come here so badly when he's about to die.
Maybe it's because, deep down, he knows that living in that palace is the same as dying at the end of the day, with the difference that being dead inside is slower, more tortuous. At least, if he dies here, he will die defending something he cares about, something–
Sharp, red pain shoots from his shoulder and branches throughout his whole being, bringing him to his knees. Moon's blade digs a little further into his muscle until a curtain of blood covers his shirt at unprecedented speed.
When his head finally touches the floor, he sees drops of his own blood on the wood, as well as Moon's boots as she squats in front of him, pulling his uneven fringe out of his eyes' way.
Her eyes are shadowed by the sunlight streaming through the hole she had made. If Gladion focuses, he can see Hau grinning down at him, mop and bucket forgotten.
That's the last thing he sees before he blacks out. Moon sighs.
"Why do I always have to spare the troubled, edgy kids? I'm getting soft." Moon gets to her feet, one hand on her hip. She looks through the hole on the ceiling. "Hau!"
"Yeah?"
"Tie this guy up. We can't let the brat get away– and someone just fix the damn floor already!"
"Yes, ma'am!"