Rakshasa Pirate Boyfriend Atticus (complete)

    The massive black sails that appeared on the horizon that day had many people hold their breath. I’ll admit, I too felt a serene sort of terror. I was afraid of what these black sails could mean for us, but I knew what was coming. Much like when a storm arrives. Storms do what storms will do, and no matter how much you fight, you can’t change that much.

    The Ruby Empire has been through so much already, and since the Gnolls have faded, we all expected our little port town to be taken over at some point. The pirate lords, Autry, Bray, and Brifsteinn, had banded with the new order, the warlord Demir and his expanding army. Could you even call them pirates now that they had joined forces with the powers that be?

    My family and I held out hope. We were blacksmiths by trade, and usually, those with trades useful to the pirates could keep a decent life. If you worked hard for them, then they would keep you protected. But as the days went on, we heard barely anything about the pirates. We knew they were around and were talking to the leaders of the port, but we were kept very much in the dark.

    “They say he’s blue,” my brother, Jason, says.

    “Blue?” I look back at him. He’s sitting on the stool while repairing the spokes on his wheelchair. “Like sad?”

    “Blue,” he shows off the handle to his tool. “Like actually the color blue.”

    “How can that be possible? Does he bathe in blueberries?” I laugh, snapping my hands to my waist.

    “Pirates are known to decorate themselves. They have stricter beauty regimen than the rich folk do.” Jason looks over his wheel then back up at me. “It’s like how some animals mate. The more outrageous they look, the more distinct and frightening they are.”

    “Well, I’ve never heard of a blue pirate,” I scoff, crossing my arms. “I would like to hear about any pirate at all instead of just sitting here and stewing as we wait for something. What the hell are they even doing?”

    Jason shrugs in reply. “They’re probably trying to buy the port. Now that Autry and their kind are rallying with the new power, there are those who are trying to rise through the ranks.”

    I turn and cock my eyebrow at him. “How do you know so much about pirates?”

    “I read,” he sneers. Jason then smiles and attaches the wheel back. “And, it’s not hard to put two and two together, you know?”

    I huff and glance out the window. “So, if they buy this place, does that mean we’re homeless?”

    “Maybe,” Jason says a bit too cheerfully. “Could also mean the same thing as when Brifsteinn bought his island. He kept everyone there and brought refugees there. The whole island was like a massive extended family.”

    “I am NOT becoming family to some berry stained pirate,” I scoff. “I would much rather be homeless than all that.”

    “You look it already,” Jason smirks.

    I huff and push his wheelchair away from him. “That’s what you get.”

    “If you don’t want anything said, then brush your hair,” Jason’s smile never fades.

    I grumble and push his chair back towards him so he can hop from the bench into his seat. Ever since he was little, he had problems with his legs. Even as he tried to work passed it, he found out it did him little good to try and build his strength up. He built the wheelchair by himself and has made himself a small business making more of them for the elderly and sick in the village. He was able to turn his pain into something good.

    One afternoon, at least a week since the black sails pulled into port, I was walking home from getting groceries when I saw him. The blue pirate. He was at the end of the market, walking with Aberdeen Wallace Shaw, the richest man in North Square. He was a tall, massive lion, and indeed, like Jason had said, he was blue from head to toe. His pure white fur was now the color of fairy floss. He had an eyepatch over his left eye where deep gnarled scars went down his cheek and neck and even onto his exposed chest. 

    Aberdeen wasn’t a bad person, but he wasn’t the best. He did good and bad for North Square. After all, he owned a good chunk of it, and my family paid him rent for the house we were living in. Walking beside the blue pirate, he looked absolutely green to match.

    I was trying to shop before they could come across me, but as I’m paying for potatoes, a massive cloud hangs over me. I look up, seeing only blue.

    “Well, what have we here?” His voice is dark and booming like a storm cloud. “Are these sweet or regular?” He asks.

    I ignore him and am silent.

    “They’re regular, sir,” the shopkeep answers.

    The blue pirate chuckles. “Too bad, I only like them sweet.”

    I pay for the potatoes and then grab my bag. “Thank you,” I say clipped and turn to walk away.

    “My, my now,” I hesitate as the voice still remains close to my ear. “Tall one, ain’t you?”

    I flinch and turn, looking back at the pirate. “Blue one, ain’t you?” I toss back at him.

    Some of his mates snicker and laugh, ducking their heads as the blue one tilts his head towards his shoulder.

    He takes off his hat, brandishing it out and bowing before me. “Forgive me,” he says. “Let me introduce myself. I am Lord Atticus Banastre Valancourt,” he says. 

    I frown down at him. “What makes you a lord?”

    His mates all take a step back, looking like balloons that are about to pop.

    Atticus rises up, smirking down at me with a triumphant gleam to his eye. “I make myself a lord since all the others tucked tail and turned.”

    My brother always told me it would be my mouth that got me into trouble. I knew it would, too. Hell, I’ve been in trouble most of my life for what comes out of my lips, but right now, I simply don’t care.

    “Then I, too, am a lord,” I say. “No, wait!” I gasp. “I make myself a general, or you know what? I’m Queen of all the water you can see and even beyond that.” I place my hand to my hip and shake my hand at him. “So don’t talk to me. Just because you're a lord doesn’t mean you have the right to talk to a queen.” I turn on my heel and leave him.

    “Who is she, really?” I hear Atticus snarl to Aberdeen.

    “That’s Lorelei Smithson,” Aberdeen’s voice squeaks. “Daughter of the town blacksmith.”

    Atticus chuckles darkly, and I pick up the pace. “Blacksmith, eh?”

    I make it home in record time, quickly closing and locking the door behind me.

    “Don’t lock the door! We could have customers,” my dad fusses.

    “Keep it locked,” I snap. “I ran into the blue pirate,” I grumble.

    Jason looks up in awe. “You saw him?” He gasps. “What’s he like? How did he look? And he really WAS blue?”

    I snap a harsh and dirty look to Jason. “Yes, he was blue. Nothing to get yourself riled up about.”

    “Is he following you?” My dad asks with a worried tone.

    “Not sure,” I grumble. “He was with Aberdeen and asked him who I was. I just bolted.” I say as I get my work gear on.

    “But what does he look like?” Jason asks again.

    “He’s a big blue lion!” I snap. “Who fucking cares?” I storm into the workshop, sitting down before the furnace, hoping that the blistering heat will take my mind off of it. I didn’t want to admit I was nervous. I didn’t want to believe that Atticus whatever the hell his name was, would come looking for me at my own home.

    Well, he found me.

    The next day, I came down the stairs as my father was greeting someone at the front door. My father was going on and on about prices for something.

    “My daughter is the one who makes those,” I heard my dad say.

    I’m putting on my apron and getting my gloves.

    “Oh good, I’ve always said, a woman’s touch seems to be the thing that makes everything better than it is.” The dark grumbly voice shocks me to my core. I drop what I’m holding, my hammer and tools clanging to the floor loudly.

    “Lorelei, dear, is that you?” My dad calls. “Come in here, I have you an order.”

    I close my eyes and exhale loudly. I then stiffen my shoulders and walk into the front room where dad is talking with Atticus.

    “What is it?” I ask, ignoring Atticus as much as you can ignore a giant blue thumb.

    Atticus stands up and bows to me. “Lovely to meet you,” he says. “I’m looking for someone to make me a gate for my new house.”

    I turn and look at him, frowning. “What does a seafarer need with a gate?”

    Atticus smirks. “I won’t always be at sea,” he says. “I do plan on staying on land sometimes, especially now that I own this little haven.”

    My insides clinch and grow cold. 

    “I was just telling your father here, Aberdeen was quite apt to selling. He’s moving, and I’ll be taking over his home as my own,” Atticus smirks. “His wooden gate is cute, but-” he shrugs and taps the tips of his fingers together. “I have always been partial to wrought iron.”

    I give my father the stink eye then glance up to Atticus again. “And just what do you want?” I ask. “What sort of gate? The style? The size?” I tap my foot. “Did you think these things out or are you just charging through without a whim?”

    Atticus takes a piece of paper from his pocket. “Everything is there.” He hands it to me. “I don’t go charging, Ms. Blacksmith,” he snarls. “I plan, and I plan intricately to the very fine wrought details.”

    I look over his sketch and then glance back up at him. “I didn’t realize pirates were so organized.”

    Atticus chuckles, and he shrugs. “There is much I’m sure you don’t know about pirates.” He then takes a bag from his jacket. “Will this pay for everything?”

    I push the bag away. “Give us the house, since you own it now.”

    My dad looks at me with a terrified expression.

    “Seems rather steep for just a gate,” Atticus snarls.

    “Gate, fence, I’ll do it all,” I huff. “Just give us the house so that way, when the work is done, I won’t have to see you again.”

    Atticus’s smirk cuts deep, going quite wicked. “You plan too, I see.”

    “I’m just thinking ahead,” I reply. “What is going to cost me and my family a lot less misery in the future.” I fold up his sketch for the gate and tuck it into my pocket. “With a pirate owning this port now, you never know what will happen these days.”

    “Pirate lord,” Atticus corrects me.

    “Not the way I see it,” I growl at him.

    “Lorelei,” my father hisses warningly. I know he wants to tell me my mouth is working faster and harder than any grave digger in the country. 

    Atticus grins. “How about you marry me, then?”

    My eyes widen, and everything inside me feels like the furnace in the workroom.

    “Marry me, and you’ll never have to worry about what any old pirate does,” Atticus takes a step towards me. “You’ll own more than just your home,” he says as he takes my hand. “You’ll own the port, the land, everything.” He squeezes my palm and then rubs my middle finger. “You’ll own me.”

    I pull my hand back. “I just want the house,” I say as calmly as I possibly can. “I don’t need a headache.”

    My father is looking at me, and I can’t quite tell if he’s proud or ready to watch me get eaten alive. I guess we’ll both find out.

    Atticus smirks. “You can have the house,” he says. “Be prepared to work,” he replies. “I plan on seeing you often.” He turns and leaves.

    As the door closes, my father slouches over into the chair. “Lorelei, you are playing with fire.”

    “It’s better than playing with his big, blue hairy balls,” I growl under my breath. “Are you not angry?” I snap at my dad. “Aren’t you livid that he even asked me such a thing?”

    “I knew you would get angry enough for the both of us,” my father sighs. “No need to add more logs to that fire.” He then smiles at me. “For a moment, I thought he was going to snap your neck. I never expected him to go and propose.”

    “That wasn’t a proposal!” I scoff. “That was a scare tactic.” I then grin. “I got us the house!” I cheer.

    “Yes, but for your soul,” my father sighs. “How long are you going to have to work under him?”

    “Never under him, daddy,” I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I’ll make sure I’m always on top of him.”

    My dad shakes his head. “I’m afraid you’ve signed your soul away, Lorelei,” he growls. “You may be under his thumb for the rest of your life.”

    “Then he’s going to get his thumb cut off,” I shrug. I take out his design plan for the iron gate. “Well, I suppose I better start sawing away, then.”

    I start working on the fence, and in a few days, Atticus returns to our front door. This time, Jason answers.

    “What is that you’re sitting on?” Atticus growls as Jason rolls backward on his wheelchair.

    “I made it!” Jason announces brightly. “See? My legs have never been great, so I made this so I can get around better.”

    “How odd,” Atticus kneels down, looking at it. “And you say you can move better this way?”

    “For me, it’s better. I dunno about you, sir,” Jason replies.

    I step out of the workroom. “Iron gates don’t happen in a day,” I tell him. “What are you here for?” 

    “I came by with this,” he presents a roll of paper towards me.

    As I open it, I see it’s the deed to the house.

    “Payment, up front, I do so hope you don’t run away,” Atticus purrs. 

    I tuck the deed under my arm. “Where would I run to?” I huff.

    Atticus smirks. “You get lovelier every time I see you.”

    “Really?” Jason scoffs. “Her?”

    “You hold your tongue, son,” Atticus snarls. “Women are not their base appearance. Women are the fire that is stoked within them. It rages, and it burns with the hurt and anger that years of being stepped on can bring. That fire births diamonds and jewels only the lucky can see. Your sister,” Atticus shivers as he takes in a deep breath. “I can see a fortune in her.”

    “Really?” Jason asks again.

    I shake my head. “Fire? Diamonds?” I scoff. “Do you really think pretty talk will get you anywhere, Atticus?”

    “I hope an inch or two, enough for me to smell your hair,” Atticus purrs.

    “You might wanna rethink that, sir,” Jason whispers to him.

    “I am not a trinket,” I growl at Atticus. “Nor some perfumed ball to be sniffed,” I snap my hands to my hips. “Words and ideals won’t work on me.”

    “A house barely did,” Atticus chuckles. “Perhaps I’ll find the key.”

    “Don’t,” I shake my head. “It’s best some doors stay locked.”

    Jason looks between the two of us. “We aren’t talking about houses, are we?”

    “Go to your room,” I tell him. “I have to go, I’ve got a tall order to finish,” I say as I motion to the work room. 

    “I know you do,” Atticus chuckles.

    “If you want to impress her, buy her new clothes,” Jason says quickly. “She’s been wearing a quilt as a dress for the passed...I guess since she was five.”

    “Jason!” I bark at him.

    “Dresses?” Atticus smirks and rubs his chin. His eyes go up and down me. “I’m not one for fashion,” he starts.

    “Obviously,” I scoff.

    Atticus laughs. “But I do know what I like on women.”

    “Really trying to make more diamonds in me, aren’t you?” I snarl at him. “Jason, just deal with him. I need to work.” I take the deed and lock it away before I go back to working on Atticus’s gate. 

    I strike the wrought iron just like I want to strike his toes and teeth and fingers. I work out my anger and frustration on that smoldering iron until it takes the beautiful complex shapes Atticus had sketched on the paper.

    Maybe he was right about women making diamonds in themselves, I can certainly feel them forming right now.

    I was walking outside one day, I had visited some friends and had tea with them. As I’m rounding the corner, I see Atticus at the front door. He has with him a few of his mates, all of them loaded with boxes in their arms.

    “No! No, no!” I call out to him as I rush forward.

    Atticus turns, his brow raised and then he grins when he sees me, bending into a low, elegant bow. “Lorelei, your ears must have been burning.”

    I smack the box from his arms. “Turn around. Go home. I’ll call on you when the gate is ready,” I huff at him.

    Atticus picks up the box I smacked from his hands. “No,” he says simply. “I’ve brought gifts for you and your family.”

    I sputter and stare cross at him. “Don’t tell me you actually got the dresses!”

    “I also have something for your brother and father. New tools. A sturdy new work bench. I also noticed that the chair your brother sits in had a crack down the back. I found him something that could be used as a replacement.”

    I stare back at all the boxes then back up at Atticus. “This won’t work!” I snap.

    Atticus opens a box and lets the dress inside spill out. It’s pitch black and made from a heavy material. “I had it specially made. It’s flame retardant and will protect you from sparks and debris that I am sure you work with daily.”

    I reach out to touch the dress then reel my hand back. “I don’t need it!”

    “You’re working in a quilt,” Atticus replies. “I think you do.”

    I huff and put myself between him and the front door. “Take your gifts and go away,” I snap. “You paid for the labor I’m doing, we don’t need more.” I step inside and close the door behind myself, locking it despite Atticus remaining at the steps.

    “Lorelei,” Jason calls to me, “what’s going on?”

    “Nothing,” I say as I storm into the kitchen. “Ignore the door. Don’t answer it at all or I’ll break your fingers.”

    Jason arches his brow at me then turns to the door. “Is it Atticus?” He asks.

    “Don’t speak so familiarly about him,” I say. “He’s not going to set foot in this house again if I have it my way.”

    Jason scowls at me. “Why are you so dead set against him? What has he done to you?” He asks, following me towards the work room.

    I hesitate, and my back stiffens. “He bought the town!” I snap at Jason as I turn to look at him.

    “And?” Jason shrugs. “You do realize he’s kind of doing a good thing, right? Aberdeen may have seemed like a nice guy, but his taxes were getting higher and higher every year. Not to mention, he’s doubled our rent since we moved in. Atticus got rid of that nonsense.”

    “By blackmailing the town!” I laugh.

    “And what exactly are taxes?” Jason asks.

    I stare him down. “You’ve always liked pirates. Of course, you wouldn’t see anything wrong with what Atticus is doing.”

    “He likes you! Is that so offensive?” Jason laughs. 

    I scoff and turn to look out the window where I can see the ocean just outside. “I don’t know why,” I grumble.

    “You can act like a woman,” Jason says. “You don’t need to be afraid of that.”

    “I’m not afraid-” I stop cold in my tracks when I look into Jason’s eyes. I then huff and kick at the ground. “Ok, shut up.”

    “You know I’m always right,” Jason throws at me. “So what if Atticus likes you? He likes you as you are, dirty hair and all.”

    “Ok, I have to ask, why are you always harping on my hair?” I can’t help but laugh.

    Jason smiles at me. “Can you do me a favor?” He asks.

    I sigh and nod. “Ok. But just one.”

    “Just hear Atticus out,” he says. “You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but just...maybe accept what he’s offering.”

    “He’s offering his blue paw in marriage,” I scoff.

    “Would that be so horrible?” Jason shrugs. “He’s good looking, big, strong, not to mention stinking wealthy.”

    I look over Jason. “You marry him, then.”

    Jason snickers and shakes his head. “I would! But he isn’t trying to win me over. He’s after you.”

    I huff and look out the window again. “Ok,” I sigh. “I’ll be nice to him, just once.”

    “That’s the spirit!” Jason cheers.