• ..


Her back protested when she sat up and Vatea groaned at the aches that came alive around her neck. Her mouth felt dry and she licked her lips, smacking them noisily while she tried to register her surroundings. She didn't recognize the dark room and the unceremonious cold wooden floor she must have slept on. Her wedding dress was ripped, smelled like seaweed and probably wasn't white anymore. She couldn't tell in the dark. She didn't mind either. She was sure she looked like the lochness monster.
There was some light filtering in from spaces in the wood and door.
A sudden lurch of the ship reminded her of where she was and she was conscious of the subtle sway that she'd grown accustomed to through the night. This had to be the worst and most realistic dream she has ever had. At the moment, she didn't know what was happening.
"Hello?" She croaked but the sound could barely be heard.
The night was calm though, she thought. An improvement from the storm they had had earlier. As it was, the people on the cruise ship were a bunch of lunatics. First, they rescued her then they threw her into the closet-like cabin to be treated like a prisoner. No one came to see her. She could hear people, foot-steps, things moving and the occasional creaking of the vessel but was denied contact with anyone.
She was cold, thirsty, hungry and tired. Not to mention, she was in pain and her make-up must have transformed her features into the Joker. 
"Hello?" She said again and moved to stand when her hand landed in slop. "URGH! What the!?"
In front of her sat a wooden bowl and a wooden cup that hadn't been there the day before. She hadn't notice it because of the lack of light but her eyes adjusted and she could make out the room more clearly.
The place was bare but someone had been in earlier to leave her water and....food. It looked like porridge but she wasn't sure. Her hunger dissolved and she chose to drink the water instead. The water tasted different but it was definitely clean water. Refreshing.
After emptying the cup, she stood up shakily and ran the events of what just happened through her head. Maybe now was the time to panic.
She remembered her wedding and recalled the horrid experience with the old man at the sea wall. He shoved her over the wall! He sent her here....
She scratched her head, confused. Where was she?
Then a thought struck her. Oh God, no. I'm being trafficked!!
She'd read about it and seen it on the news but she never thought she'd be the victim of something like this. Was she being trafficked for prostitution? She hoped not.
Or were they donating her organs?
She quickly dismissed the idea.
The people on board were confusing. They seemed crazy. Maybe she was crazy.
She remembered that they'd sent her to Frederic's room but she couldn't see a bed. This was no one's room. It was probably a closet or cell.
"HELLO!?!?!" She yelled out again. She didn't expect anything to happened but there was suddenly a noise at her door. The door swung open with a loud creak and squeak as two bulky men marched in.
"Hey-" Whatever she was about to say was cut off when the taller of the two grabbed both her arms. He produced a rope and fastened her wrists together, all the while ignoring her feeble protests. Guy number 2 stood at the doorway, probably as security, in case she turned into Chuck Norris and slaughtered the whole ship. It was ridiculous. She looked far from threatening.
In the small amount of light, she could make out the first man's features. He was tanned, almost burnt and a scar ran down his left cheek. He looked like he had long hair but she couldn't really see behind him, as tempted as she was to check for his ponytail. Pirate, rang in her head but she shook away the thought. Weren't most Pirates Nigerian? That sounded like an ignorant thought.
"You won't get away with this!" she spluttered before wincing at the bad use of cliche. "This is kidnapping!" She was ashamed at her lack or originality.
"Be quiet, creature," the man holding her spoke suddenly. His voice took her off guard and Vatea stilled her movements, scared of the venom she detected in his voice. His face was cold and unfriendly and his friend at the door was glaring at her in suspicion. He pulled something out from his belt and she realized with dread that it was a small blade. "Red won't mind putting you down," the man tightened the ropes around her wrist and nodded to the man, he called Red, at the door. Red just glared at her, twirling the blade casually in his hands and moved to make way for them.
She was ushered out to some wooden steps and she climbed obediently, her eyes returning to the dagger in his hands. The yet-to-be-named captor was leading her while Red followed close behind.
The sudden light surprised her and she tensed trying to shield her eyes but she was shoved forward.
A curse word caught in her throat when she stumbled. Her disorientation and speckled vision didn't help matters but she quickly avoided falling on her arm. Broken bones would just be the highlight of her day. Her teeth clashed against the ground and she prayed that she hadn't lost any teeth. The blood oozed in her mouth and her brain felt ready to explode. Her skin was grazed.
She lay there waiting to die. She expected Red to lose patience and "put her down". Nothing happened. There had been a lot of noise when they brought her on deck but Vatea wasn't able to see anything except the floor. So far Red hadn't laid a hand on her but his ruthless talkative friend needed no hesitation.
Dickhead, she thought. Despite Dickhead's abusive tendencies, it was Red's blade that worried her.
After a few seconds of waiting for the inevitable butchering, Vatea realized the noise had turned down to collective whispers and murmuring. Hesitantly, she shuffled to her knees and peered up at  two strange figures before her. A man and a woman strangely clothed.
Now, she knew she was in a dream.
There were men standing in the background, crowded around to watch the spectacle before them. Two women stood at the other end of the ship near a door that probably led down to the cabins. Vatea wished now that she knew more about ships. At the moment, she knew nothing about ships except that they had sailors and colourful flags.
Her eyes returned to the man and woman before her. They were a good looking pair. The man had dark wavy hair, like the rest of his crew, tied back in a ponytail. He spotted stubble and a harsh tan; light blue eyes with laugh lines streaming from the corners were narrowed at her. He was wearing some kind of long sleeved shirt, thin material that was opened at his chest.
 Showoff, Vatea thought eyeing his built chest, lightly sprinkled with hair. His pants were funny and in any other circumstance, she would have laughed out loud. They were tight white pants, baggy at his mid section and his boots were laced up slightly above his ankle.
The woman, Vatea thought, was beautiful and she lacked the amount of tan everyone else seemed to have. Her skin was still lightly tinged with orange but she was fair, standing up to her partner's shoulders. She wore a blue blouse with lots of weird ruffles and lace, tucked into white pants and her boots looked like her partner's but still managed to look feminine on her. Her hair was long and dark, braided down her back. Her eyes a light blue was the least hostile from the rest of the crew. Instead, they were laced with curiosity.
Vatea was aware that blood was now trickling down her mouth and she was dying to spit it up on deck but a crew member standing further back with a mop was glaring at her murderously. She suspected he had just mopped the deck and considering everyone was too keen on slitting her throat, she kept the metal taste in her mouth. No need to tempt anyone.
Her head hurt, her teeth hurt and her mouth was full of blood. Her hands were starting to lose feeling and the ropes weren't too comfy either.
"It's a woman," the lady finally said. No, shit. Vatea frowned at her. Was this a joke? A very rude, well-planned, evil joke.
"The devil is what she is, your highness" said Dickhead. Vatea was really starting to hate that guy. A force on her back shoved her to the ground and this time she turned her head so that her cheek slammed into the floor. It didn't hurt less. The voices around her distorted and came back into focus when her ears stopped ringing.
"She's bleeding," the woman had rushed forward to help her up.
"Don't touch her!" Dickhead bellowed. That's when things turned interesting. The woman's partner, who had been watching silently, seemed to come alive at the raised voice. He was in front of her, his arm going across the woman like a shield and the other curled into a fist.
"Don't ever, raise your voice at her," he hissed making Vatea and Dickhead shrink in their shoes. It was stupid of her to have thought Dickhead and Red were the bigger threat. This guy was ready to butcher anyone that crossed his girlfriend.
"Your highness, forgive me. I was only afraid for her safety." Dickhead's quick humble apology was almost amusing.
Vatea's ears pricked when she realized it was the second time he had said your highness.
The couple was royalty of some sort. She knew for certain they weren't from the British monarch. Prince William was blond and didn't sail ships across Suva harbor to rescue and abuse girls attacked by old men.
She knew there were other Monarchs in Europe, Africa and the Pacific but she probably wouldn't know them by face. Even if she did, these lot could hardly be from her time. The thought occurred to her that she might have time-travelled. It was silly and stupid but so was everything that had happened to her lately.
Nothing made sense and therefore the best explanation should not have to be logical.
Either she was in another time or this was Narnia. She highly doubted that. So far, no talking animals.
"I know you're frustrated Bren," his highness said. Looks like Dickhead's name was Bren. "We all are but I will not have you take it out on my sister....or our prisoner." Sister?!?
Vatea glanced between the man and woman and realized they looked alike. She hadn't caught the resemblance earlier but now she saw, they definitely were related. A grudging respect grew for his highness. He was protective of his sister.
Point one for his highness and a negative five for Dickhead...I mean, Bren.
His highness looked over at her and she shrunk under his scrutiny.
"It...she.." He hastily amended when his sister gave him a sharp look. "She is to be cleaned and we will ask her questions later. In a more civilized manner, hopefully." His tone warned her not to try any funny business but Vatea had already tried to frame an escape plan. Small boats attached to the side of the ship caught her eye but the vast span of ocean around her dulled her hopes. If she could get into the boat and somehow lower it without being killed, she would still die of starvation and dehydration. She doubted the little boats had a storage of canned tuna or a flare gun with a how-to guide on surviving for dummies.
For now, she was stuck here.
"I will clean her-" her highness began but she was cut off abruptly by her brother's barking command.
"No!" He gestured to the other two women who hurried forward. "Lynda, you and Red are to clean her and settle her into her..." he hesitated, wondering what to call her closet space, "her room." The princess clucked in annoyance but did not object and instead helped Vatea to her feet.
Lynda was blond, her fringe slightly visible under her maroon head-scarf and her dress fell towards her toes. It was long sleeved and light blue, with a tight bust and a belt that looked like a rope around her waist. She nodded with a grimace and moved with Red to usher Vatea. She knew they were both reluctant to help her and she wasn't keen on having Red present when she was being cleaned but she went along obediently to avoid any loss of teeth.
"Prince Alex," it was Dickhead again. Vatea looked back curiously at the prince, finally putting a name to his face. All that was left was her young hero the princess, she needed to know her name.
"What is it Bren?" she heard the prince say while Red nudged her gently to keep walking. The crew dispersed to their duties realizing the show was over and the noise started up. She could barely hear the conversation so she faked a limp to slow their movement.
"Prince Alex, in the interests of the others on the ship I plead with you to get rid of that creature."
"It's a woman," the princess' tone was adamant. "She's tanned by the sun. Will we treat her like an animal because she is coloured differently? She bled, you saw her bleed, brother!" Vatea could not see them because Red and Lynda had turned her around to hurry her along.
"She's a siren," Dickhead interjected. "Prince Alex, let the other crew members have their say...this could be a bad omen."
"Brother!"
"Enough!" the prince's impatient voice sounded. "We will deal with this later. I have other things to worry about."
Their voices trailed off as Vatea was led through the door down the steps.
"We should drown it," Lynda's comment took her off guard.
"Excuse me!?!" she spluttered, trying to pull away but Red grabbed hold of her shoulder. He shot a look at Lynda and she frowned but said nothing else.
Vatea on the other hand had to double over to spit out all the blood that had spluttered and she'd accidentally swallowed. She was surrounded by pirates who were mentally insane, abusive, superstitious and racist. She was hungry. Her head swam. Her eyesight blurred and her cheekbone was aching. The nausea swam in the pit of the stomach and her head seemed light.
Blackness swallowed her and she drifted into nothingness with only one thought in her head. Lynda was stupid.