For Lili
At first, there was only the slight rocking movement of the cot she lay on; that, and the dim sounds of the open sea, seeping through the cracks in the oiled boards. As Lili came slowly to her senses, the events of the past few hours came flooding back to her: the excited days of packing for her family's return to London, servants filling chest after chest with fine dresses and jewelry; the first few uneventful days at sea, spending most of her time in her cabin with her books and her dark thoughts of the tall midshipman with the piercing eyes; and then the sudden, savage attack on her father's boat, from the black-sailed sloop they had never seen coming in the watches of the night.
As Lili's eyes adjusted to the gloom, she began to piece together what must have happened. She remembered the cries of the crew, the sounds of clashing steel, and her maidservant coming to her with a hushed exhortation to stay indoors, with the door firmly bolted (At barely 18, her maidenhead was a treasure even more firmly protected by her lord father than all of his gold). But it was all for naught; as she shivered on her bed, soon after the door was split in two by a powerful kick from a boot, and rough hands seized her, bundling her into someone's strong arms. She swooned, and remembered no more -- and now here she was, in a strange room, on a strange ship.
And yet it did not seem like a cell; the door was of course firmly locked, but as she looked around, she saw paintings on the wooden walls, and looking back she saw that she had been laid, fully dressed, on a large bed, topped with a fine down comforter and what looked like silk sheets, even softer than those she had known at the family home in Jamaica. Perhaps they had indeed been rescued from their plight, and were on another of Her Majesty's vessels, on their way to their destination.
Her question was soon to be answered, it seemed; powerful footsteps were making their purposeful way to her door, and she sat back down on the luxurious bed, trying for a pose of graceful calm. She heard what sounded like a dozen locks and chains being pulled aside, and the door swung wide, revealing the silhouette of a towering man, a shadow cast from the lantern on the wall behind him.
"Good," he said in a low rumble of a voice, accented with a dialect close to her birthplace -- Scotland, perhaps, or Ireland. "You're awake. I trust you enjoyed your beauty rest, my lady"
The way he said the word seemed to drip with irony, and it was at that point Lili was sure she had fallen into the hands of the only remaining enemy of the British Empire -- a lowly pirate.
As her captor swung the door closed behind him (she heard other hands fastening the locks once more -- they were taking no chances that she would be sly and try an escape), he came into sharper focus in the cabin's gaslight. He stood more than 6 feet tall, and was broad and well-muscled -- a fact that was apparent despite his long coat. A trim beard decorated his chiseled features, and his eyes were like intelligent flecks of flint as he looked her over, making her feel as if she were naked before his gaze. It
seemed as if she saw him smile as her cheeks reddened, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes," he rumbled again, his voice dark and deep. "You'll do, well enough."
Lili found her bravery and her voice at this. "Well enough for what, sir?"
Her jailer smiled wider. "Sir? Why, I like that -- that's a good start. A respectful start, young Lili Hughes. To answer your very good question, you're good enough to be my new -- consort, let's say. You'll stay here, and do as I say, and you'll keep your lovely things," he said, casting around the room with a gesture. "And if you disobey me, you'll be overboard sharing your fine dresses with Davy Jones." At this, he turned to go, after one long look up and down her body, from the fiery curls of her hair, over her slim neck, the full swell of her bosom straining at her corset, the shapely hips in a fine green satin dress, and her ankles and dainty feet on the wooden boards. "Think on that awhile."
"My household," she said, stepping forward a little, bolder still now. "If I'm to be held hostage in some way... why, my father --"
"Your father's dead," the man growled. "I'm your father now, missy."
The thick oaken door slammed resolutely shut behind him, and Lili's senses finally reported to her what she had seen; a pin on the man's jacket, an unmistakable silver lion with an eagle's wings. She was in the clutches of Captain Roark -- the Black Griffin. She sank onto the bed and wept, for her family and what she had lost, and for what she might yet lose.
It was difficult to tell how much time had passed -- her cabin had no porthole -- when Lili heard her door being opened from without once more. She had located a chest of her belongings which had been deposited with her, and changed into a fresh slip and a deep blue velvet dress which had always been her favorite. Perhaps if she could plead to the Black Griffin's better qualities he may still release her. Pirates did always play at gentleman, with their own codes and rules. Mayhap there was something she could offer him to sway his hand.
Lili stood by her dresser, caught in the act of brushing her long curls as Roark strode into the room, his eyes seeming to once again claim her, own her. It was not hard to see how he had risen to his infamous position -- he exuded a dark confidence. She knew at once she must not risk his anger.
"You've changed," Roark said, as he stood with his hands on his hips, watching her.
"Do -- do you not like it, sir? I can put the green dress on again --"
"No," he said, eyes drinking her in. "No, I like this one. But from now on, I decide what you wear, and when. Is that clear?"
"Y-yes, captain Roark."
Another sly smile. "An intelligent girl, this one. I'm glad I chose you. There was another -- a ripe little serving wench who would have made fine sport -- but I knew you would be a sweeter fruit to pluck."
"Thank you, Captain," Lili said softly, her face flushing down to her cleavage. The things he inferred were monstrous and frightening but the kindness and admiration in his words affected her. She was used to growing up in a home where her brothers got far more than the lion's share of her father's affection, and here was a man pinning her in place with his eyes and praising her beauty and brains. "I have always been a good student."
"Well, that remains to be seen now, doesn't it?" Roark growled. "I fancy you've never attended the types of lessons I have in mind for you -- but yes, I think you'll do just fine. I know the type."
Lili murmured her thanks again, her thoughts a jumble as she wondered just what he meant, and then he was stepping forward, taking her hand -- not unkindly, she thought.
"Turn around," Roark said, his eyes burning into hers deeply. Lili obeyed, slowly turning in a circle as he held her delicate hand, as if they were dancing at a Christmas ball. Even with her back to him, Lili could feel the Griffin's eyes boring into her, and she had the queerest sensation that, without a word or a touch, he would be able to unlace her bodice and strip the clothes from her firm young body with only a glance, leaving her exposed before him. What was even more uncanny was that part of her -- a secret part of her that buzzed in the back of her head -- would not mind if he did. Would stand before him, pink and ripe, and wait for his judgment.
Once Lili was facing the captain once more, he released her hand -- reluctantly, it seemed. "It is very well," he said, nodding, with a ghost of a smile on his cruel but handsome face. "Let's begin."
Lili did not know quite what to expect as Roark stepped slowly closer to her, his dark visage above her, face unsmiling -- a beating? Would he take her virginity there and then, to claim ownership of her as a chattel, a commodity? Instead, he slowly moved around her, staying close, examining her from every angle, it seemed. He stopped behind her back, and she could feel his warm breath on the back of her head. Lili waited, trying to be still and show no fear. If she could placate this legendarily cruel man, perhaps her ordeal would be over the sooner for it.
She started slightly as she felt Roark's hands on the lacing of her bodice (it had been hard to put on without handmaidens, but by lacing it at the small of her back she had managed to retain her ladylike demeanor); his hands were nimble and swift for being so large, and no sooner were the lacings between his big fingers than the corset was loosened and he removed it, setting it on her dresser chair.
The Griffin moved back around in front of Lili, looking down at her once more. She was tempted to cover her bounteous breasts with her arms -- without the bodice, they seemed to push even more fully at her
velvet trappings -- but she was determined to show boldness without disrespect. Somehow she knew that was what he wanted from her.