Plundered

Author's Note: So, thanks first to Shannon and Laurel for betaing this story for me. I heart them. I love the feedback that this story is already getting. So funny to see that most of you just expect our sneaky Draco to tie Harry up and have his way with him. Not to say that any of those assumptions are off base, but it's still funny to see. I hope you all enjoy this next installment.

Part 2: No Pirate’s Life For Me

With a steady hand, Malfoy pressed the blade he was holding more fully against Captain Potter’s neck, drawing a crimson dollop of blood to the surface. He smiled as he watched the coppery liquid drip down the other man’s neck –the same neck he’d been sucking on with a heated passion just a few short moments ago.

“Tie him up and take him to the brig,” Malfoy addressed the crew who suddenly slinked in around them from the shadows. They made quick work of tying the Captain up, lacing the thick rope around his hands and securing it then around his feet. As they hauled the glowering man away, Draco blew him a mocking kiss, followed by a smirk as Potter was pulled roughly out of his sight.

Never before had a triumph been quite as sweet as bedding and capturing the man who had been hunting him for months. Potter was a fool if he thought that he could sneak up on a pirate as skilled and ruthless as the Dread Pirate Black, and that foolishness would be rewarded with his death. Draco was keen enough to lure Potter into his own trap, he had recognized the man right off, but was at first leery that the famed Captain had recognized him as well considering the speed with which Potter had initially approached him.

After a few moments conversation it was clear that wasn’t the case, so Draco cast those worries aside and decided to play another hand. Draco had never enjoyed the company of wenches as much as he had the hardened sun-kissed bodies of a seaman. Something about a man who was used to sailing the vast blue oceans, toiling with his hands while the salt spray caressed his bare back made Draco swoon. But a Captain of the British Fleet was another wet dream altogether.

Those men were well bred, usually born into the profession, and known to be strict and prudish. Breaking one of their kind had been the best of both worlds. Draco laughed to himself as he climbed the stairs leading to the upper deck. He honestly couldn’t believe that it had only taken a few less than charming suggestions to capture The Captain Harry James Potter. The man was legendary in his own right, his fame might even surpass the whispers of loathing and fear that accompanied the name ‘Dread Pirate Black’, but unlike Potter, Draco had been very careful with his career. People only knew the name ‘Black’, no one, not even his crew knew his real name. There was no picture of his face on the wanted posters that littered every island in the Caribbean, because no one aside from his loyal crew had ever laid eyes upon him and lived to tell the tale.

Still, it had taken bravery the likes Draco had never seen to seek out a pirate as treacherous as he and even hope to live to tell of it. Then there was the fact that Potter had been a fit and capable lover, passionate and tender all at once, even in their hurried state. It would almost be a shame to let such a fine specimen of a man become shark bait. Draco could always use a companion out at sea, someone to entertain him and to share deep conversations with, as a Captain of a glorious vessel, Potter must be at least somewhat intelligent, despite what being so easily captured said about him.

“Captain Black, should we wait until we set sail, or should we dispatch of the prisoner now?” one of the deck hands asked, pulling Draco from his thoughts. “We could slice his throat and throw him in the bay.”

“I’ll take care of this one personally, Goyle. Just see to it the other men leave off him. Captain Potter is mine,” Draco hissed, smiling to himself as he thought of all the fun he could have with Harry as his reluctant guest. The longer he left the raven-haired man alive, the more entertainment he could count on. In fact, he just might keep Harry as his own personal pet forever.

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Harry hung his head in shame and anger. He couldn’t believe that rotten scoundrel Black had tricked him. Or worse, that he’d shagged the man, or the fact that he’d felt anything close to soft fluttery emotions toward the lying creep. He wasn’t fit to be a Captain of the British fleet if he let his lust take hold of him so deeply that he let someone like Malfoy –no scratch that, Black- capture him with such ease.

The dank iron cage the crew had thrown him in reeked of stale urine, and the rough ropes were biting into his flesh as he tried to wiggle free of their tight grasp –all to no avail. Harry didn’t know how long he’d been locked down there, hours, days -it seemed an eternity either way. He could tell they were moving though, he could feel the gentle sway of the ship as it coasted through the smooth waters and he thought of all the wonderful sights he was missing by being caged in the bowels of the ship.

Some people thought that the ocean was just an endless vista of the same sky and the same watery horizon, but Harry knew differently. He’d spent most of his life on a ship, recruited at an early age to work on a small ship called The Dursley. The boat transported lard from the north to countries in the south and it had been Harry’s job to clean the ship and keep it tidy. His quarters had been the size of a cupboard and he earned meager wages, really just enough to buy a new pair of shoes and a scrap of bread when they got to port. After his many years at sea, he knew that every wave told a tale, that every sunrise and sunset were vastly different from day to day and that on the perfect afternoon, when the sun hung high in a cloudless blue sky, that it was as close to being in heaven and a mortal could come.

Clearly Harry had come a long way from working as a lowly ship rat to the honored position of Captain, but he wondered now whether he’d really earned it at all. No other Captain would have been as foolhardy as he had been –he was sure of it.

Harry heard a creak and looked up toward the hatch, watching as a lumpy man emerged from above and waddled over to his cage. “Look lively,” the man growled. “The Captain wants ‘ter see you.”

“I’ve no interest in seeing that vermin ever again,” Harry spat. “Just throw me overboard and get it over with.”

“Would that I could,” the man growled. “But orders are orders and I’ll be taking you ‘ter see the captain whether you like it or not.”

Harry huffed and steeled himself for a fight, bucking against his restraints when the man started pulling him toward the exit. He tried to bite, scream, and claw –anything to anger his attacker enough to just put a bullet in his skull and be done with it, but all he got for his troubles was an elbow to the gut.

The sky was a thick blanket of black littered with sparkling stars, much later than it had been when Harry was captured, but not cresting over into dawn just yet. Harry reasoned he’d probably only been in the brig for a little over a day then, it couldn’t have possibly been two. He wondered what sick joke Black was playing at by summoning him to his private quarters. He found out soon enough, as the crewman who had stolen him from the brig opened a door and threw him roughly to the ground of a vast and opulent room. Harry looked around the immaculate room trying to gain his bearings. He noticed a large conference table to one side, its surface covered in weathered maps and various wealthy trinkets. A small table with two chairs rested in the corner closest to him, against a set of stained glass windows that no doubt looked over the front of the ship. A massive and luxurious looking bed sat in the furthest corner, its canopy draped in finer fabrics than Harry had seen even in his trips through the orient. A flush attacked his cheeks as he finally laid eyes on his captor sitting elegantly on the edge of the plush bed.

The man was shirtless and his fair skin –so unusual for a pirate or any man who was always at sea- gleamed in the moonlight that streamed in through the window behind him. Harry grew even angrier as he imagined what the evil pirate might have had in mind by summoning him here and he vowed to do everything in his power to cause the blonde pain if he so much as attempted to force himself upon him. “Leave him,” Malfoy ordered, his tone light, yet forceful.

Harry was left tied and slumped on the ground, wincing as the door shut behind him and he realized he was alone with Malfoy in the middle of a vast ocean. His First Mate probably hadn’t realized that Harry was even missing yet, so no one could do anything to prevent whatever Malfoy had planned but Harry himself.

“I hadn’t realized Captain, that your middle name was Gullible,” Draco mused aloud, still seated on the edge of his bed. “It was far too easy to catch you, it was almost as if you were begging to be caught.”

“I assure you that wasn’t the case. I simply let… my attraction become my folly. I admit defeat, just kill me already,” Harry spat.

Malfoy shook his head slowly, revealing that he’d left his long blonde hair untied as it fell over his shoulders from the slight movement. “No, I won’t be doing that. Who would keep me company if I killed you, Captain?” he asked, using the moniker like a sharp whip, reminding Harry who he would have been if not a prisoner on the vile pirate’s ship.

“I have no intention of keeping you company unless insults warm your heart. But then, perhaps they do, as black as it is,” Harry snarled, looking far less dignified than he would have liked in his current bound up state. It didn’t help matters that still, after everything the smarmy git had done to him; the man was still a sight to behold.

Malfoy stood then, the movement allowing Harry the perfect view of Draco’s chiseled torso as he stalked like some breed of wild cat, graceful and powerful, toward Harry’s posturing form. In the center of the man’s chest were knotted pink scars as if someone had attempted to rip the man’s heart out with a dull blade, but that was the one and only thing marring the man’s otherwise magnificent body. He hadn’t the opportunity to truly appreciate it in their rushed affair on shore, and now that Harry had all the time in the world to stare at the false angel, he wished he was looking at the inside of his own quarters instead.

“Are you hungry?” Malfoy asked suddenly, his eyes roving over Harry’s body as if relaying his own hunger.

“No,” Harry lied, but his parched throat and the yearning in his tone betrayed him.

“Pity,” Draco sighed rather melodramatically. “The crew prepared far more than I could possibly eat all by my onesies.” With a flourish, Malfoy lifted the lid of a shining silver platter revealing piles of meats, cheeses and hearty loaves of bread.

Harry nearly salivated at the sight. He hadn’t eaten since hours before the pirate had captured him. He’d meant to eat something at the tavern that night before he set eyes on Malfoy and grew… distracted. He took a deep breath and steeled himself against his hunger, determined to rebel against the man in any way he could. However, breathing deeply had probably not been the best idea as it brought the luscious sent of the food down to his awaiting nostrils, making his stomach growl in protest of his stubbornness. “I’ll pass,” he said at last, trying to shift so that he wouldn’t have to watch the other man dine.

Malfoy seemed to have other plans in mind though, as Harry soon found himself lifted and placed in the empty chair across from where the pirate promptly sat afterward. “I can’t have my guest lying about on the floor like a street urchin,” Draco explained when Harry shot him a rude, yet questioning glance.

“I’m not your guest. I’m your prisoner,” Harry corrected, hating the sound of such a word on his tongue. He was Captain Harry James Potter, he took prisoners, he didn’t become one.

“You could be my guest. I could unbind you and feed you and give you a nice warm bed to sleep in,” Draco began, “as long as you were to remain civil and submit yourself to me.”

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head sharply. “If you’re hinting that I should bow down and take it up the arse, I’d rather die.”

With pursed lips, the pirate shook his head in distain. “You’re being unreasonable. I’ve already had that pretty little arse of yours, Potter, and clearly you enjoyed it just as much as I did. Why does my identity change that?”

“The fact that you have to ask speaks volumes,” Harry snapped.

“Indulge me,” Draco requested, sounding intrigued.

“Fine, why don’t we begin with the top three,” Harry sniped. “You lied to me, tricked me and imprisoned me.”

“Lying and tricking is sort of the same thing,” Draco remarked with a smirk.

“And you’re a pirate!” Harry shouted, giving Malfoy his third reason.

“You suspected I was a pirate before we shagged the last time,” Malfoy pointed out. “I gave you enough clues to deduce that much at least.”

“I didn’t know you were the Dread Pirate Black. I didn’t know you were the filthiest scum to sail the seas. I didn’t know you were the man I had been hunting for months,” Harry hissed.

“So, had you known all that beforehand, you wouldn’t have fucked me?” Draco asked, a look of genuine interest in his icy gaze.

“No!” Harry nearly shouted, thinking his answer was quite obvious.

“Then what would have motivated me to be honest in the first? This way I got what I wanted and in a way you did to,” Malfoy replied flippantly.

“How do you figure that?” Harry snarled.

“I got to capture and pound the arse of the most notorious Captain in the British Fleet and here you are, sitting across from the man you’ve been searching for months on end. We’re both winners,” Malfoy replied with a wink.

“You’re mental,” Harry whispered, shaking his head to try and rid it of Malfoy’s delusional words.

“No, I’m practical,” Malfoy replied, almost bitterly. “You wanted to catch me, well here I am. I wanted a companion to spar with and shag until my cock falls off, and here you are. Neptune is smiling upon us both.”

“You really are bat-shit insane,” Harry replied, utterly astounded by the other man’s casual way of asking Harry to be his willing sex slave. “I don’t shag pirates,” he added, quickly continuing when it looked as though Malfoy was going to argue. “And I certainly don’t shag pirates who take me hostage.”

Malfoy sighed as if his point was momentarily defeated. “Fine. Have it your way. Scoff at my manners and have fun sleeping in the brig.”

Draco rang a bell beside his table rather sharply and a moment later two burly men came in to drag Harry down into the bowels of the ship once more. He couldn’t believe the nerve of that blasted pirate, thinking he could persuade and own someone like him. Harry was of noble blood, he’d worked hard nearly every minute of his childhood and he had earned his place at the top of the fleet, regardless of what this slight lapse of judgment may have earned him.

His head ached and his stomach was still screaming its protest about Harry’s decision to decline a nice fresh meal. Trying to get comfortable on the weathered wooden floor was nearly impossible and every splinter or scrape made him curse the day he met Draco Malfoy. His hand went automatically to the amulet around his neck, the cool stones clearing his mind somewhat. The trinket was the only remaining link to his late family and touching the necklace always seemed to calm him, as if his parents were there to direct him from their graves.

If Black wasn’t going to kill him, then he had best be prepared for the fight of his life, because Captain Potter wouldn’t sit idly by while his own ship was taken over and his life was ruined. He’d find a way off of The Silver Serpent if it took his last breath to achieve it and if he could somehow take Black down with him all the better.

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Author's Note: Poor captured and defiant Captain. Whatever will he do?