AU: Captain Blacke and lady Karalie [Karalie]

[Karalie Heise]

She'd hardly changed her mind, but something told her Lucas knew that.  They both knew her survival was the only thing she was interested in, something Lucas was dangling in front of her like a carrot on a stick.  Would he let her walk away with it or would tonight be her last? Either way she was certain a man, or more, would have their way with her before the night was through.  It was almost a guaranteed certain, and though the thought had been tempting not thirty minutes ago, it was despicable now.  Just thinking of it disgusted her and made her physically ill.  There was no greater violation.

Karalie had learned a hard lesson from him, and that was above all to hold her tongue.  Her tongue was what had gotten her in this mess in the first place, and now she would need to bite it again as he spoke, the pistol sliding past her cheek and forcing her to turn her head slightly as if to pull away.  The hand at her throat kept her from going farther than a few centimeters, though and she found her eyes slipping shut, fat heavy tears dripping down and pooling at the dip in her chin.  He'd told her to beg in order to tempt him to reconsider.  She'd done just that, which seemed to be the opposite of what he actually wanted.  She couldn't win against him, and she was smart enough to not argue with him now.  She'd seen him use that pistol the first night on a man for stealing a measly potato.  What would he do to her for disagreeing with him?

His hand slid over her thigh and she instinctively pulled away, the fear and embarrassment gripping her like a vice.  Her pride was slowly ebbing away like the tide as need to survive kicked in.  Her cheeks reddened further, the color creeping down her neck as she tried to think of what she could possibly say to make it sound at all like she did, actually, want him to take her.

"I.." She choked, shaking like a leaf as she searched for words that might convince him to just keep her there.  Being violated by only him was the lesser of all the evils he'd offered.  "I need you.." She tried, forcing herself to push her leg into his hand, dark reddened eyes searching his.  Lust wasn't present on her face, but looking someone in the eye showed honesty, even if she was being dishonest in her pursuit.  "I y-yearn for only you.. Please.." She'd attempted to calm her tears but it seemed she had an endless supply.  She tugged at the belt holding her pants up. "Please.." She begged again, though it wasn't clear to even her if she was begging for him to make love to her or to leave her alone. Perhaps it was a little of both.

[Lucas Blacke]

He was enjoying this. Whatever she had done it had awoken the pirate within him, feeling a pleasure he hadn't felt in a long time. The joy of seeing a man die, the joy of giving them a reason to take their own lives, the never ending screams. The ability to make people beg, the ability to strike fear in people without doing anything and taking joy out of it. He had missed this, missed having a reason to be his pirate self. The last few raids had been cutting it close in terms of desire from Blacke, his words less and less true and his actions the same.

But now, now when Karalie was doing what she did, seeing her cry and beg like he asked gave him a reason to smile among other things. He merely took the tears in her eyes as empowering her words, she was aching for him to such extent that she was actually crying over not having him. ''Please what?'' He taunted as he took her leg in his hand and leaned in close, licking the trail of tears that fell from her eye. ''Please whore me out ta th' crew or please ma'e me yers?''

He laughed as he asked, obviously it was the second, if only to make sure she wouldn't be thrown to the crew, and Lucas knew that. ''I'll do me bes' ta make ye mine, ya harlot.'' He was going to work her, make her beg for him and only him, make her a woman fitting of being a pirate queen, no remorse, no regret, no qualms, and willing. He kept a bit of distance between them then, though, a smile creeping up at him as he put the gun back on the desk. She would know better than to tempt him by now unless she wanted him to use force.

The pirate widened his arms and grinned. ''I 'ave a friend who wants ta say 'ello. Give 'im a kiss!''

[Karalie Heise]

It felt as though hours had passed, when in reality it had been roughly fifteen minutes, twenty at most.  She felt lower than dirt as she knelt on the filthy wooden floor, her knees numb, her jaw aching and her throat now raw.  Her sobs were silent, though they racked her entire body, hunched over the mess she'd made on the cabin floor.  Karalie had never felt as disgusted with herself than she did in that moment; violated and embarrassed there on the floor before the man she had thought she could trust.  Now that he'd properly defiled her she hung her head, not wanting to look at him another second.

A hand grasped her arm, pulling her to her feet and throwing her to the bed. His command to get rest was followed by the cruel title he'd given her; wench.  The promise of worse loomed overhead as he exited the cabin, leaving her alone with her pitiful thoughts of hopelessness.  How could she possibly survive another night of that sort of treatment? He'd left her virginity intact, but for how long?  Wondering made her ill once more, but there was nothing left in her stomach to heave.

Spent, the young woman curled up into a ball beneath the sheets, the rag of a shirt she'd been wearing earlier still discarded on the floor somewhere.  She was too upset to move, too distraught to think about getting up and dressing herself.  Nothing could protect her from Lucas now, not likely even the pearl.  He might even take it away from her, and part of her thought to maybe go hide it, but what good would that do? If he wanted it bad enough he could retrieve it.  Could she bring it to the deck and offer it to one of the pirates? Who could she trust now? Who was to say he wouldn't take her life and steal the pearl?

The thoughts went in and out of her mind as her body gave in to her exhaustion.  It had been through a lot that evening and sleep came swiftly, if not lightly.  Every creak pulled her awake, fear of the captain's return, but when she realized she was still alone she would drift back off easily enough.  Perhaps he would come to his senses and leave her be.. 

[Lucas Blacke]

He'd left the cabin and made for the hold downstairs, having a brief peek at the crew to know if they were all there. Everyone had been accounted for and it was pretty much safe to move about, even for the captain it would be risky to move about at night without proper reason. If he were caught, what was he supposed to say? That he had a slave on board that would surely get him lynched if word got out? Or that he had vomited himself and waas going to get supplies to clean it, or that he was hungry and taking food out of their hold? Food intended for the entire crew, he should add. No, he was better off sneaking about without having to tell anyone his reasons.

With the way he was being towards her, his words and his actions.. while they were true he did not exactly mean them, save for one, obviously. He didn't want her to face death on his account, he did love her but just grew tired with what she had been doing to him. He was knocking that out of her slowly, nightly. She would grow to like him, love him like he loved her.. certain parts.

He entered the hold and got a bucket, filled it with some water and filled up the canteen he had still been carrying. A new change of clothes was snatched and crumpled up and an entire loaf of bread taken for Karalie to inhale. After that all was done he made his way back past where the crew was sleeping and headed to his own cabin.

He put the bucket down next to what she had left behind as a present and threw the loaf of bread on his bed, together with the canteen and the change of clothes. He ordered her to drink and eat some before getting some more rest. ''Next time somethin' comes out there had better be somethin' ta show fer it.''

Grabbing a spare wooden mop and began cleaning her mess. It took him back to his days where he was simply required to scrub the deck daily; he was glad he hadn't forgotten how to. Still it was not without complaints that he used her discarded shirt to take away most of the bile. This was no job for a captain.

[Karalie Heise]

The door creaked open and her eyes did the same, watching the dimly lit figure of the pirate enter the room.  She found herself tensing, pulling her knees in tighter to her chest, her fist clenching fiercely around the blanket tucked up to her chin, as though he might snatch it away at any moment and finished what he'd started.  The fear she had for him was multiplied by the simple betrayal.  She felt emptier because she had trusted him, learned to care for him, pulled him from death only to be treated like this.  She'd mopped up his blood, all but resurrected him, and he used her all the same.  Cruelly, no less.

She smelled the stale bread as it landed beside her, the canteen heavy as it bounced onto the lumpy mattress she lay upon.  Clothes came next, but she didn't move a muscle, other than those dark orbs following him around the room as he set the bucket down.  He ordered her to eat but she wasn't hungry. She was empty and hollow and her body seemed to prefer to be that way.  She couldn't bring herself to eat, and though her mouth was dry, she couldn't bring the canteen to her lips.  Instead she let her eyes shut, pretending she was asleep though he'd likely already seen her eyes open.  What did it matter?  He could go ahead and force her to eat if he wanted.  Maybe she would let herself starve to death; see how much pleasure he gained from her then.

She turned away, keeping her eyes shut and sulking pathetically on the bed. She had nothing left.

[Lucas Blacke]

Her mess was cleaned up by the time he looked back at her, still sleeping. Perhaps she'd slept through all of it, probably for the best, though a bit odd. He had half a mind to wake her up, force her to eat and drink. Understanding why she wasn't was not because she was asleep, Lucas knew he made enough noise to wake her up, and after what he did to her there would be no way she would have gotten into a sleep so deep after how hard she tried and he knew she wanted to struggle against it. Not like he took her virginity or anything. No, that would stay intact for a while longer. He'd break her and he was sure she'd offer it to him out of her own free will.

Little did she know she was pretty much responsible for how he was treating her, but he wouldn't finish it. Oh no, she would. How she did that was her choice, the pirate would even hand her his gun if she required it to shoot herself with. He loved her and the things she did, but not in the way she accepted and that really was okay with him, she was allowed to feel what she wanted but it wouldn't make the pirate change his ways.

Forgetting what she did for him was a hard thing to do, and it still followed him everywhere his mind went, still pretending that they were playing instead of being caught in reality made it all a bit easier.

''Ain't ya glad th' crew ain't gonna know ya?'' He asked her as he picked up the bucket filled with contaminated water and threw it out the porthole, kneeling beside her as he did so, a smile etched upon his face as he finally threw the bucket out as well. Taking the bread beside her he broke it in half and took a bite himself, maybe seeing someone eat would get her to eat some.

He took her arm then and forced a piece of bread in it. ''Doin' what I tell ya means I'm gonna care fer ya, keep tha' in mind. Do yer job, an' I'll see to yer every need. Please me an' live like a queen.''

''Now eat, wench. Drink. Sleep. Yer gonna need it.''

[Karalie Heise]

She could hear the mop slopping back and force, the noise enough to wake her if she actually were asleep, which of course she was not.  The mopping went on for several minute until she heard the low grumble of his voice, pulling the small hairs at the back of her neck up on end.  She hated him for rubbing this all in her face.  She knew what he meant with his comment; a reminder that he'd been kind enough not to share her.  How many others would have used her in the way he had? How many men on the crew would have taken advantage the way Lucas did?

The contaminated water was thrown from the porthole and she felt herself curl up tighter with his proximity.  She couldn't stand how close he was to her, but what more could she do than what she already was? The blanket was pulled aside as his hand grasped her arm roughly, pulling at her and pushing a hunk of the bread she didn't want into it.  Couldn't he leave her alone? Hadn't he done enough damage without forcing this upon her as well?

His words only angered her.  Please him and live like a queen.. Maybe she didn't want to live like a queen at his side.  Maybe being used by him was enough to turn her away from the lifestyle of a queen.  Besides, he hardly lived like a king; He was filthy and the food they ate was stake and now beginning to grow moldy and sour.  Kings didn't eat this way. Even she hadn't eaten this way prior to climbing aboard that ship.

Perhaps her annoyance was what made her stupid, or maybe it was her blasted pride, but without a second thought she took the hunk of bread and tossed it out the porthole, glaring at him, despite his command to eat. Wench. I'll show you wench. Her mind raced and as soon as the bread left her hand she regretted it.  This would one of two ways; he'd laugh it off or.. Karalie didn't like to think of what the "or" entailed.

[Lucas Blacke]

''So lemme get this straight.'' He began calmly, looking at her as she tossed the bread he had just handed her out of the porthole. She was lucky enough she had even a single use to him alive, were she anyone else he would have thrown her overboard. ''Ya just expelled yer lack of food an' I was nice 'nough ta give ya a piece a' bread. Which ye discarded.'' He hovered over her and was suddenly glad he had broken the bread into two pieces which meant he still had enough for himself. ''Food meant for th' crew.'' He added as he got up and let her arm go.

Walking over to his desk he grabbed his own pistol, turning around to look at Karalie with a smile etched upon has face. She did one hell of a job making sure he didn't forget that she was a mere slave and needed to be treated as one. ''Why d'ya force me ta do this I don't really get, but it ain't my place ta question yer choices, really.'' He said as he took a rag and ran it along the barrel of his gun. ''I'm just 'ere ta make ya honor my choices. Ye 'ave lost yer freedom ta make those fer yerself a long time ago.''

Slowly he stepped back to the bed and hunched over slightly, grabbing Karalie by the neck and squeezing, forcing her to get up depite knowing she was probably weakened by that expulsion of nothing. It was time she needed to own up to her own choices, if she still felt inclined to make them. Lucas wasn't going to say she would probably be allowed to make her own choices again if she stopped being so self destructive out of fear she would just do that for a while and then betray him or something. Perhaps it wouldn't even get to that, sadly.

Lucas did not like what he needed to do as his gun found her belly. ''Ya need ta stop makin' decisions that'll end badly fer ya.'' He said as he licked her cheek, grin upon his face. ''I'm gonna need ta share ya with th' crew now. Maybe they'll ferget 'bout what ya did ta their food then.''

He forced her to turn around and ordered her to go to the door, up to their quarters. Behind her the gun was cocked and ready to fire. ''Such a shame, ya could 'ave lived..''

[Karalie Heise]

She regretted her decision almost immediately.  It had been rash, stupid, and possibly life ending.  He didn't lash out immediately, but when his hand let go of her and he turned to move away she knew she was in trouble.  Serious trouble.  He was calm and collected, frightening, as he made his wya to the desk.  She would have the gun put to her again and that sick feeling in her stomach worsened to a gnawing ache.  Maybe death wouldn't be so bad.. The thought made her dizzy and frozen with fear.  her body shook once more as death stared her in the face.

Why was he grinning like that? Did he truly enjoy her torment so much? Who was this man?! Karalie had thought she knew Lucas, but he was a master at the facade he'd created.  He'd barely spoken for weeks, his touch gentle, he'd even asked her to do things instead of telling her to.  It was like this was a different person all together.  How had she managed to flip such a major switch in less than two minutes?

Her breath came out shakily as he grabbed her throat, her nostrils flared as she looked up into those eyes she once thought were beautiful, but now repulsed her.  He pulled her to her feet and her hands shot to his, desperately trying to pry the strong hold he had on her off.  She quit struggling when she felt the hard metal tub at her stomach.  How long would it hurt, she wondered.  A bullet wound to the abdomen..  Her eyes shut and she shuddered as his hot, moist tongue dragged across her skin.  "Please.." She whimpered, knowing for certain he wouldn't go back on his threat this time.  She was almost certain of it, her knees giving away, unable to hold her own weight under the immense trembling.  He forced her towards the door, the sound of the gun cocking at her back.  She covered her face with her hands, knowing this would be her last moments as she was; she would either be given to the crew and ruined there, or murdered below deck before they had their chance with her.  Why had she ever run away? Why had she chosen this over William?  "Please, Lucas, please.. please.." She whimpered in a soft, trembling voice, dropping into a heap at the floor. "Please have mercy.."

[Lucas Blacke]

''Mercy?!'' He repeated as loud as possible in the knowledge the crew wouldn't hear it anyway, only the two in his cabin could hear it so he had no need to heed his men. He laughed at her plea for mercy, from him no less. It was begging, and begging was something Lucas liked as it told him people knew they were at his mercy. He rarely showed it though, but if it were to happen begging was the way to make him offer it, go back on his own word and hand out another chance. Something else the Blacke Buccaneer was known for, though the people receiving his mercy were often broken and brainwashed, telling everything that was positive about him and neglecting to tell the negative.

He lowered the gun as he looked at the pathetic heap of wench at his feet. ''Ya expect me ta show mercy when ya so happily discard that could keep a man alive? Ya expect me ta show mercy when I try ta keep ya alive an' ya deny it like the whore tha' ye are?!'' Nevermind giving her to the crew. She didn't deserve pleasuring so many men. Then he leaned in, his face mere inches from hers once more, him dropping his gun and gripping her lower jaw, forcing her to look at him. ''Ye don' even deserve death.'' His tone cooled down to icy levels, his eyes piercing hers as his grip tightened with the intent to hurt. No matter if she would be trained to use her jaw for something else, the way she acted should not go unpunished.

''Tell me what's in it fer me if I keep ya alive?'' He asked cooly as he threw her head back, releasing his grip on her. ''What is the use of not killing ye myself when ya don't cooperate? Force me hand?''

He got up and crossed his arms over his chest, unsure what to do. He didn't want to lose her as a slave for his nightly adventures, but he also didn't want to go back on his word of punishing her. ''Tell me, wench; what us do ya 'ave to me?''

[Karalie Heise]

The volume of his voice made her shrink further.  The crew was bound to hear.  They would come running, they would see her, he would gladly hand her over and there was nothing she could do.  She was doomed no matter how this all played out.  She was either dead or wishing she were; that's all there was to it.

She flinched at his name calling.  Whore, wench.. she missed when he called her by her proper name, all of this torment getting to her mind.  She didn't know how to feel, her emotions a strange jumble of depression.  His hand took her jaw, forcing her to look up into his eyes, her own pink and damp, pleading with him not to harm her.  Not deserve death? Would it be too kind? She supposed he would rather see her suffer for what she'd done and death would be the easy way out.  He wouldn't allow that, not after the show she'd put on. His grip tightened and she whimpered softly, wincing and tensing her body, but she didn't dare beg him to let her go even though it hurt; she knew he would not.

His question threw her off, especially when he shoved her head back, causing a pain to shoot down her neck.  She watched him skeptically as he got to his feet once more, gulping.  What could she possibly offer him that would keep her alive and away from the hounds that wanted to tear her apart for their sexual needs?  
  
She was silent for a long time, words leaving her as she scrambled to think of something, anything, worthy to him.  She could offer the pearl but she knew as well as he did that he could simply take it from her whenever he desired.  He knew it was with her things, that she had it.. it was pointless to use that against him.  If he wanted it he could take it from her, alive or dead.

"I'll cooperate." She practically whispered, her voice hoarse and shaky.  "I'll do whatever you tell me, y-you have my word."  Complete obedience.  She could do that.. she knew what he had in mind for her, or at least the tame things.  "I'll be your queen, I'll please you like.."  She couldn't bring herself to say those foul names about herself. She couldn't refer to herself as wench or whore, because though she knew she was agreeing to act as such, it hurt too much to admit.  "I'll call you master, I'll worship you, I'll-- whatever you want.  Whatever you want, no questions asked, please.. please I'll be good." Her voice cracked with her sobbing, hating herself, hating him, hating this entire situation she was in. But it wouldn't be forever.  At some point they'd have to hit land and from there, well, she'll have her pearl and she could run.  Rn far away from the pirate Lucas.

[Lucas Blacke]

Time passed as it often did in moments of tension, a pathetic heap of person in front of the pirate known for his spirit-breaking ways with people without using any kind of weapon to do anything other than threaten. Sooner or later he got everyone this way, and pretty little princess Karalie would just be another notch on his belt. She would carry out his will, and only his, he would make sure of it. Things like what he said before, he would never have shared her with the crew, but some things had to be done in order to break minds. And it seemed hers was just about breaking as he watched her nervously figure out words to offer him.

That was when he wanted to widen his eyes in surprise as he heard that she would cooperate and do what he wanted. She would even be his queen! To that Lucas shook his head, the chance of her being his queen was long gone, thrown out like the bread he offered her. The only thing she could do to even come close was, as she said, to be obedient, please him like- ''Please me like wha'?'' He asked as she got done with her whole offer. He knew what she meant, but if there was really complete obedience from her she would finish her sentence at his mere whim.

He leaned over a bit and let his arms dangle freely, one hand stretched out, index finger pointing at the whore in front of him. ''First things first, I want ya ta come over 'ere like th' whore ya are. I want ya ta admit ye are just that, an' spice it up a lil'. An' then-''

A grin grew on his face as his outstretched hand turned around to point at his groin. ''I want ya ta help me again. I'm ready fer round two an' yer in need of somethin' in yer whore mouth.''

[Karalie Heise]

He pressed her to finish her comment earlier, and Karalie knew she had no choice but to answer.  She knew what he wanted to hear, and she'd just promised complete obedience.  Her cheeks flushed at the further command to call herself a whore and spice it up.  Spice it up how? How does one spice up calling themselves a wench? As she thought it the idea sank in and she knew what she was supposed to do.  Lucas finished his command with the notion he expected her to please him once more.

Karalie felt her eyes glaze over some as she lost more and more of her own self respect. She was vile, disgusting, unworthy of anything good.  He was slowly destroying her very worth and she knew in her heart no one could care for her even after she got away.  Who would want a whore? Who could possibly love her? Even with the pearl she couldn't imagine anyone ever finding it in them to actually want her.  Their relationship would be a lie; she would have promised her husband her purity and he wouldn't receive it. What sort of woman did that?

"I'm nothing but a dirty whore." Her voice was soft, defeated as she continued to tremble pathetically on the ground.  "Your whore." She added, believing it to be completely true.  She was now, as hard as she tried to fight it, she was exactly that. With her first order completed, she forced herself to move closer in order to fulfill his next command.

Karalie was exhausted by the time Lucas had his fill of her and allowed her to go to sleep.  She was made to lay with him in the bed, a hollow shell of who she was that morning.  Though she lay in the dark, drained and tired, aching and frightened, she found sleep did not find her.  Her mind raced and her stomach gnawed angrily.  She did as he told her with no fight and in the end she knew she'd done well at her new position.  The game was to stay alive, even if it meant destroying her soul in the process.  She would figure it all out if she ever got back to shore alive, but for now she was his humble servant.  His slave. His whore.

When she did sleep it was the restless type, full of nightmares and mental anguish that tore her from her sleep in a cold sweat over and over, gasping for air, only to have the dread gnaw at her insides some more.  

When morning finally came and Lucas woke, he forced himself on her once more, and again as she had the night before she did what he commanded with no fight.  It wasn't worth the risk to her life or to be given to the crew.  When he told her to drink she drank.  When he handed her food she devoured it with a meek thank you.  Finally he left her and she was able to relax, the exhaustion hanging over her like a heavy curtain.  Everything hurt, but her eyes did most of all.  Alone, and feeling safe for the first time in hours, she fell into a deep sleep on the bed.  Her rest was tormented, as she was, but she slept deeply and soundly, her mind and body preparing itself for the abuse to come.

[Lucas Blacke]

This new Karalie was equal parts amusing and saddening. She wasn't the bundle of fight she had been before, but she did do whatever he said now; he was starting to break her as he did everyone. Still, he saw no need to put his own needs so far ahead of hers to keep her from her needs and brought her the bare necessities to keep her from toppling over at a whim, the fact she did whatever he told her to added to the ease of it all. Still, the fact he had to ask for 'fun' was a bit much, ideally she would want to do it willingly without being ordered to do so.

As he stood on deck with his eyes picking apart the crew he felt quite relieved, less tension riddling him and the crew picking up on just that, complimenting him on how he wasn't so strict and that he looked better. They all assumed his wound had healed fully, none of them thought he had a wench in his cabin waiting to cater to his needs. And realistically, why would they risk discarding a Lucas with little to no yelling needs? Still, they wouldn't be wrong on his wound though, it had healed up and he wouldn't forget who had helped him with it. Perhaps that was what made him decide to treat her a bit better than most of his slaves.

..they were in need of another raid. He needed a second sword, perhaps the luck to find a wooden one or something. Perhaps he could find a good book or something. Yes, she was his slave, but also a guest in his quarters. There was no real need to make her comfortable, but he did figure he could at least give her something to do in his time on the deck. They wouldn't get back to how they were before, but getting on a pleasant basis right now was not in his agenda.

He told the crew he was off for the day, essentially giving them free reign to do what they wanted for the night as he slowly returned to his own cabin. He opened the door and closed it softly. ''Where's me whore?!'' He asked loudly, not knowing what would happen.

[Karalie Heise]

When she woke she had a hard time concentrating on anything.  Karalie tried to read, but found herself reading the same page over and over, not absorbing any of the information it provided.  After nearly three quarters of an hour she put the novel down.  She looked outside for a while, ignoring the pangs in her stomach as the ocean swayed, rocking her empty belly into sickness.  It made her head throb, so she leaned it against the side of the porthole, wondering what it would be like to jump through the small round window.  What would happen when she hit the water? Was it cold? Would a sea creature make her its lunch? Could she survive her way back to land? Would another pirate find her and force himself upon her as well? Could she maybe find mercy at the hands of someone else?

The thoughts circled in her mind as she heard the telltale sound of the pirate's boots making its way down towards the door.  Her body tensed and she drew her legs in tighter to her chest, wide, dark eyes staring anxiously at the salty wooden door that kept her only momentarily safe from the man on the other side.

She cringed at his welcome, hating the sick feeling that bubbled inside her at the name.  It killed a small part of her every time she heard it, making her believe it to be true with each utterance. Whore. Not just any whore, but his.  She was.  She knew she was, and always would be.  Even if she managed to escape, she could never escape that title, not even in death.  

She fought with herself, unsure of making her presence known or not.  He could easily see her on the bed, it was the spot she most often took up in his quarters.  

Get up.  

Greet him.

Do as you're told.  

Don't die.  

Don't give him any excuse to punish you further.

Karalie followed her internal commands, her feet finding the ground almost mechanically as she stood, wrapped loosely in pirates garb.  "Hello, sir." She greeted meekly, her eyes downcast as her legs felt shaky once more. Lucas wasn't a title fitting to him anymore. He wasn't her friend, he was her master, and he would be addressed as such.  

He didn't deserve her friendship.