Sector 2814

Aranel Took's DC Comics Fanfiction

Author Notes: This is set in the mid-1700s, but details are kind of fuzzy, historically speaking. Regarding language -- consider this a 'modern translation'. Unless it's overtly anachronistic, I may use modern words to get the point across. And as this is an Elseworlds, characters may have been modified to fit into the historical setting.

A very big thank you to my Beta Reader, Juno. Not only does she push me to do better, but she reads my GL smut even though she doesn't otherwise read superheroes.
Pirates of The Emerald Dawn
1. Captured!
Pirates of The Emerald Dawn cover art

“And who have we here?”

Kyle Rayner looked up at his captor from where he knelt on the deck of the ship. He’d heard stories of pirates all his life, had even played at being a pirate as a boy, but once he got old enough to know better, he’d hoped he’d never meet one. And now the most notorious pirate that sailed the seas was standing before him.

Captain Hal Jordan had a reputation that was known even in the upper crust of society — there was hardly a lord who hadn’t lost an investment because of the man. Jordan had once been an Officer in His Majesty’s Navy, which only served to rub salt into the wounds of his noble victims. 

The stories had always painted him a monster more than a man. It was rumored he’d made a pact with the Devil, ensuring he couldn’t be caught. But the man that stood in front of Kyle was no monster or demon. No wild, matted hair. No tattoos on his face. No pidgin English. Not even an eye patch or a peg leg. What stood before him was a handsome, well-groomed man with intelligent eyes. Not what he expected at all. 

“Tell him your name, boy,” a brawny, red-haired pirate behind him growled, giving Kyle a shove so hard that he fell forward, nearly going face-first into the deck.

“Careful with our guest, Mister Gardner,” the Captain admonished in a cultured voice. He knelt down and touched Kyle’s cheek. “We wouldn’t want to hurt this pretty face, would we?”

Kyle gasped and jerked away from the touch. The pirates broke out in laughter and jeers. Kyle’s stomach twisted. The stories—passed around after the ladies had left the room—had also said the Captain was a sodomite.

“What is your name?” the captain asked.

“Kyle Rayner,” he ground out. “Son of Lord Aaron Rayner.”

Jordan studied him a moment, then looked up at the red-haired man. “Take him to the Dawn and put him in my cabin.” Jordan stepped back and Kyle was hauled to his feet by the red-haired pirate and a stocky man with a large scar down the side of his face. 

Kyle panicked. “If you’re looking for a ransom, you’re out of luck. My father won’t pay to get me back.” He cringed. Great, he just gave the captain reason to kill him. “Just take the cargo and leave us.”

Jordan ignored him. He turned to the other pirates and pointed towards the door to the hold. “Let’s see what cargo we have here.”

Kyle spared a glance back at the rest of the men from his ship. “What about the crew?” he shouted at the Captain.

Jordan turned to look at him. “They’ll be taken care of,” the captain said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Kyle didn’t have a chance to say another word as he was hauled over to the rail.

The scarred man went first, swiftly climbing down the rope ladder to the boat below. The red-haired sailor gave Kyle a shove. “Go!”

Kyle hesitated, contemplating fighting back. But what good would it do him? There was nowhere to go. They were somewhere in the Atlantic, a month away from England. Anything he did would most likely result in his death. He swung his leg over the rail and clambered down the ladder.

The boat rocked precariously when he stepped into it, and the other sailor grabbed his arm and pulled him down. “Sit! Don’t move!” 

Gardner hopped down after him, seemingly oblivious to the rocking of the boat. “Off we go, Vath” Gardner said. The scarred man took up the oars.

Kyle spared a glance back at the ship. The crew was lined up along the far rail while Jordan’s sailors ransacked the hold. He could still hear their shouts and the sound of wood scraping on wood as they moved crates and barrels. His hands gripped the wooden bench tightly. He wondered what would happen when his father refused to pay a ransom. Would Lord Scott pay it for him? He’d already done so much for Kyle already. Kyle hunched over and swallowed hard. Or maybe Scott would be glad to be rid of him, too…

They reached the pirate ship and the two sailors grabbed the ropes that were thrown down to secure thir boat with quick twists around the brass fixtures. “Welcome to the Emerald Dawn,” Gardner said snidely. He turned and went up a rope ladder. Kyle took a deep breath and followed. 

A black man was waiting for them on the deck. “Who is this?”

Gardner shrugged. “Seems the captain took a fancy to him.” He grabbed Kyle’s arm and pulled him forward, across the deck to steps that led below. Kyle went down first and paused at the bottom, squinting in the dim light. A few sailors stared back at him and he dropped his eyes. 

The dark-skinned man followed and waved an arm at the sailors. “Back to work!”

Gardner hopped down next to Kyle and gave him a shove toward the cabin at the back of the ship. “Keep moving.” Kyle went through the door into the Captain’s cabin. 

The cabin was just as unexpected as the captain, revealing a man of refined tastes. It was richly decorated and wouldn’t have looked out of place in an English manor house, except for the plethora of crates and trunks that lined the walls. Fine furniture, delicate draperies, and silver and china on the table. Under the large windows, there was a padded bench that ran the length of the stern. To the left was a smaller cabin that was the captain’s sleeping quarters. It was here that Kyle was unceremoniously deposited onto a large feather bed, face first. His arms were jerked back and his hands bound. When Gardner finished tying the ropes, Kyle rolled to his side to look at the men. “Can I sit up?”

“Don’t see the point,” Gardner snickered. “The captain’s going to want you arse-up anyway,” He elbowed his companion. “Right, John?”

John glared at his companion. “Shut up, Guy.” He stepped forward and helped Kyle sit up against the headboard. 

“Fine, you take care of the little prince. I’m just glad the captain found himself a piece of arse. He’s been eyeing me up a bit too much lately.” Guy wrinkled his nose and left the room.

John rolled his eyes at his fellow sailor, then turned to Kyle. “Do you need anything? A drink? Food?” 

Kyle shook his head, surprised at the man’s kindness. “No, nothing. Thank you.” He wriggled in his bonds and gave his captor a crooked smile. “Except to be let go?”

John shook his head. “I’m sorry. I cannot do that.”

Kyle nodded. It had been worth a shot. But maybe the man was in as bad a situation as he was on board this ship. “Are you a slave?”

“I was a slave in Carolina,” John said flatly, “Until Captain Jordan offered me an escape, gave me my freedom. I am in debt to him for that.”

Kyle understood the last sentence to mean, so I can’t help you against the captain’s wishes. “I was going to Carolina, to Charles Towne,” he said absently. Also as an escape. He looked up at John again. “What will happen to the crew of my ship?”

“You will have to ask the captain,” the man said. And then he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Kyle looked around the small room. The massive bed took up most of the space. It was soft—even softer than the mattress he’d had at home. Captain Jordan certainly liked his luxuries. A small table stood next to it, a candle in a holder nailed to the surface. A wardrobe was on the other side of the room. Kyle leaned forward so he could pull at his bonds, but they were tight and he only succeeded in rubbing his wrists sore. And where would he go even if he could get free? He sighed, resigned to his fate. The sailor named Gardner had hinted that the Captain fancied him. He went cold at the thought. Even if the Captain wanted a ransom for him, there was nothing to prevent Jordan from using him first.

He heard shouts above him, then the ship gave a sudden lurch and heeled over slightly. They were moving. Kyle got up from the bed, feet spread wide to stay upright on the shifting vessel, and pressed his nose to the porthole. But his ship was only a dark blur in the thick glass and he couldn’t see if anyone was alive on it. 

He fell back on the bed. He was as good as dead. If Jordan asked for a ransom, Kyle was certain his father wouldn’t pay it. A pirate’s sword was much more efficient than an American colony for getting rid of an unwanted son. If it wasn’t for the intervention of Lord Scott on his behalf he’d probably be dead already by the hangman’s noose or rotting away in a filthy prison. He was closer to Alan Scott than to his own father, had grown up with Scott’s children, Todd and Jenny. Kyle sighed. Even after everything that happened, Alan had helped him as much as he could. Because of Todd. Because Alan loved his son and would do anything to protect him.

Kyle heard the door the the main cabin open and he tensed. Well, here it comes. Rape at the hands of a pirate. The latch on the bedroom door rattled and Kyle turned his face into the wool blanket. He hoped it was over with quickly.

“Are you up for dinner, Mister Rayner?”

It wasn’t a question that Kyle was expecting. He rolled over and looked at the man. The captain stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking at him expectantly. Kyle rolled back over. “I’d rather you just got this over with, Captain Jordan.”

This, Mister Rayner? And what might this be?”

“Well, from what you said… Then Gardner said …” He swallowed hard. “You’re planning to rape me, aren’t you?”

The captain snorted. “You will have to learn not to take everything Mister Gardner says seriously. And he has a deplorable tendency to be vulgar. I can assure you that I am not in the habit of raping anyone. I prefer my partners to be willing participants.”

Kyle allowed himself a moment of relief, then posed the question that had been weighing on his mind. “Why are you keeping me?” Kyle asked, looking over his shoulder at Jordan. He struggled half-heartedly against his bonds. “You probably won’t get a ransom for me.”

“Yes, well, that is something to discuss over dinner.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small knife. Kyle sucked in his breath. The captain shook his head and smiled. “For the ropes, Mister Rayner. You can’t eat if you’re tied up.” 

Kyle nodded and the captain helped him sit up. “I’m sure you realize escape is not possible,” Jordan said as he sliced through the rope. “All that’s out that door is my men and the open ocean.”

The rope came free and Kyle rubbed his wrists. They were raw from the hemp and sported bloody abrasions in places from his struggles. The captain took Kyle’s hands in his own and turned them over. “We’ll have to take care of those wounds.” 

Jordan’s hands were rough against Kyle’s smooth skin, rough from hemp ropes and sea salt and hard work. But they were also large and warm, and Kyle couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like on—

He jerked his hands back and looked into the pirate’s brown eyes. “What did you do to my crew?” he asked coldly.

Jordan gave a small laugh. “No matter what you’ve heard, Mister Rayner, I am not a crazed murderer. At least not against the innocent.” His face darkened a moment, then he smiled again. “I sent the crew on their way—minus the cargo, of course. But they have enough provisions to continue their journey or return to England.” He gestured towards the main room of the cabin. “Now, would you care to join me for dinner and then we can discuss your future?”

Kyle stood and went out into the main room. The table had already been set for dinner. It was simple—fish and spiced potatoes—but still better than what he’d been eating aboard Lord Scott’s ship. His stomach growled to remind him of that. 

“First things first,” Jordan said. He pulled something out of a drawer, then came over to Kyle. “Have a seat.”

Kyle sat in one of the chairs at the table. Jordan settled in the chair next to him and put the items he had retrieved from the drawer on the table: an amber bottle and what looked like handkerchiefs. 

“For your wrists,” he said and uncorked the bottle. The pungent smell of vinegar hit Kyle’s nose. “I apologize for this.” He ran his fingers lightly over Kyle’s wrist. 

Kyle sucked in his breath at the touch. He actually welcomed the sting of the vinegar, to drive away the feeling of feather-light touches. The captain expertly wrapped each wrist in a cotton handkerchief. “They should feel better tomorrow.”

He got up to put the bottle away and Kyle studied the man. Captain Jordan was turning out to be nothing like the stories he’d heard. “What are you going to do with me?”

Jordan took the seat across from Kyle. “Eat first. Then we’ll discuss what I might do with you.” 

The captain winked at him and Kyle’s cheeks burned. He lowered his gaze, concentrating on the meal set out before him. The food was as good as it smelled, and the wine could have come from his father’s own cellars. Kyle ate in silence, not sure what to say to the man who held him captive.

When the meal was done, Jordan rang a bell. Two men came into the cabin and cleared away the dishes, leaving glasses of port behind. Jordan took a sip of his, then looked at Kyle. “And now, you would like to know what I am going to do with you?” He shrugged and took another sip of port. “Nothing, Mister Rayner.” He gave Kyle a smug smile. “Unless you want me to.”

Kyle felt his cheeks go warm again, but he didn’t break his gaze with the captain this time. “Nothing? Then why all this? Why take me from my ship?”

Jordan drained his glass and set it on the table. He looked up at Kyle. “I know why you were traveling to Carolina, Kyle.”

Kyle frowned. Nobody but Alan Scott knew why he was on that ship. “And why is that?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice steady.

“Because our sort is not welcome in polite society. Or in His Majesty’s Navy.” Jordan leaned back in his chair. “I know you had an ‘improper’ relationship with Lord Scott’s son. And I also know Alan wants to protect both you and his son. And I know that your own father has disinherited you, that he threatened to turn you in for being a degenerate to save his own reputation.”

Kyle’s jaw clenched. “And how could you know this?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Did Lord Scott—?”

“He fears for you,” Jordan said. “He is an honorable man, one of the few truly honorable men amongst a House full of pompous, backstabbing arses. But no matter how hard one may try to keep a secret, knowledge of such things does become known in certain circles.  He had to take measures to protect his son. And you. And I owed him a favor.”

“So he knows about this?”

“He planned it, Kyle.”

Alan had sent him off, knowing this pirate would kidnap him? “And what is your ‘favor’?” Kyle asked angrily.

Jordan shrugged. “I can offer you something better than a lonely existence in a backwater colony.” 

“Something better?” Kyle blinked at the man. He was handsome, certainly, but Kyle wasn’t about to become the captain’s whore just to buy his safety. “That’s quite arrogant of you to think so, Captain.”

Jordan laughed and shook his head. “I meant an escape, Kyle. I can take you anywhere in the Americas. Or perhaps even a place on my ship, with no law and no church, so you don’t have to hide who you really are.” 

“And that’s all?”

“Yes, Kyle. That’s all. I’m not going to rape you.” 

“Then why were you making suggestions up on deck? Calling me … ‘pretty’?”

“For show, Mister Rayner. Your crew now believes you have been captured and held against your will by a buggering monster. You can disappear and I will be blamed.” He gave Kyle a cheeky grin. “Of course, if our time together leads to other things, then …” He coughed. “Well, we’ll see what happens. But it wasn’t an exaggeration or a lie when I called you pretty. I do find you a desirable man.” 

He reached out to touch Kyle’s cheek, but Kyle jerked his head away. “You’ve got a ship full of men. Why would you want to bother with me?”

“None of the crew is willing and, as I said Kyle, I do not desire the unwilling.” He chuckled. “No matter how often Guy claims that I’m looking at his arse.” 

He couldn’t help it. Kyle snorted at this little jab at the blustering, red-haired sailor.

“I sympathized with your plight, Kyle, because it so closely resembled my own once,” Jordan continued. “I came from a good family. Made an officer in the Navy. Youngest man to get a command. I was one of the best … maybe the best. But none of that matters if they discover you enjoy male companionship. And then most everyone you know turns on you and makes you out as some sort of villain. Because of my connections, because of friends like Lord Scott, because I was the best bloody captain they’d ever had, I was allowed to resign without punishment. Encouraged to take a wife—my uncle even tried to make an arrangement with a friend of his, Captain Ferris, for me to marry his daughter. But being on a ship is more important to me than a quiet, domestic life of pretending I’m something I’m not.” He shrugged. “So here I am. Captain again, even though it’s to a band of pirates. But I’m still the best captain on these seven seas.”

Kyle bit his lip. Jordan was arrogant, but it was disturbingly endearing. “And if I refuse your offer?”

“I’ll drop you off when we reach Havana, or wherever you wish to go, with enough coin to get you started. But you have a few weeks before we reach port to decide what you want.” 

Kyle nodded. What did he have to lose? He couldn’t go home and Carolina had never appealed to him. “All right.”


The Captain had to return to the deck, so Kyle was left alone after dinner. His sea chest had been retrieved from the cargo ship and brought to the captain’s cabin. It contained some clothes, a few personal treasures, but not much else because he hadn’t had much notice to pack when Alan had arranged his escape. So Kyle spent the time poking around the items that filled the room. Crates full of wine. Chests full of cloth. And in the corner, underneath a tapestry … Kyle gasped and pulled out the easel. Now, if only … there. A roll of canvas cloth, a bundle of varnished wood for frames, and a box of paint and brushes. He sat down on the floor to look at the jars of paint. They were still good. He inhaled the smell of turpentine, which reminded him of happy hours in his room, painting and sketching. Art was his first love, which had never sat well with his father. But his mother had encouraged him, had bought him paints, had paid for an art tutor out of her own small fortune. He sighed. As much as he missed her, he was glad she hadn’t lived to see him disinherited and disgraced.

“Find something you like?”

Kyle startled and looked up. Captain Jordan was smiling down at him. He’d been so engrossed in the paints, he hadn’t heard the man come in.

“I’m an artist,” he said, poking through the brushes. They looked unused. Brand new. He wondered where they had been going when the captain had taken them. “That’s how my father found out about Todd and I, actually. I had painted him ...” He smiled at the memory, of Todd stretched out in the meadow, the afternoon sunlight setting his naked skin aglow. 

Hal crouched down next to Kyle.  “They’re yours if you want them. I don’t even know why I kept them around. I couldn’t sell it at our usual ports. Not many painters in Tortuga, apparently.”

He started to stand and Kyle reached out to touch his hand. “Thank you.”

Jordan nodded and stood up. “I just came to check on you, but I see you’ve found something to amuse yourself. I still have duties on deck, but I’ll send John with some water so you can wash up before bed.” And with that, he turned on his heel and left.

John returned soon after, giving Kyle a nod and a friendly smile. He lifted the pitcher in his hands. “The captain asked me to bring you some water.” He poured the water into the bowl on the dresser. 

Kyle approached him. “Things are quite orderly on this ship.”

“The captain expects it,” John said. He set the pitcher down and handed Kyle a cloth. “Discipline is a priority for an efficient crew.”

Kyle nodded. He supposed it was a leftover of Jordan’s days in the Navy. Which led to another question. “Why do they tolerate him? I mean … I’ve heard stories. Even pirates will turn on a buggering captain. Why do you tolerate him?’

“Because it is wrong to judge a man on only one aspect of him,” John said. “The captain didn’t assume I was ignorant because of the color of my skin. So why should I care if he takes his pleasures differently than me? He is a good man. An honorable man. He treats us fairly—far better than any other captain I have heard of—and he pays us well and feeds us well. He takes care of our families, including the widows and orphans. We have no reason to turn on him.”

“This is … nothing like I expected a pirate ship to be like.”

John smiled broadly. “The Emerald Dawn isn’t any ordinary ship.”

Kyle frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

John shook his head. “You will have to ask the captain.” He nodded. “Good evening, Mister Rayner.” Then he turned and left.

“Ask the captain…” Kyle sighed. This was a very odd ship indeed.

He peered into the small looking glass over the dresser and grimaced. His hair had been a mess since he first set sail from England, always coming loose in the wind. He yanked out the pigtail at the nape of his neck and ran his fingers through the dark strands. No matter what he did, he looked like he had just come in from a windstorm.

He took off his shirt and found some soap in a dish. It would feel good to be mostly clean again. He missed the luxury of a bath and wondered if he could get one in Havana. Or did he even want to go to Havana?

He looked in the mirror again. There were dark circles under his green eyes and they didn’t come from being kidnapped by handsome pirate captains. There was no guarantee he’d be any more welcome in Havana, or the colonies, or the lands in this New World that belonged to France or Spain. Not unless he resolved to be alone, or found a woman willing to have a marriage in name only. Neither choice appealed to him.

But here on this ship he would be welcome, apparently. It would be dangerous, yes, a life aboard a pirate ship, but considering he risked the hangman’s noose—or a slow, wasting death in a prison—just because of who he loved, what difference did it make if he were hanged as a pirate instead? And he wouldn’t be alone.

Captain Jordan was handsome and desirable. He inspired loyalty in his men. He showed mercy to the crew of the ship he had robbed. And he had an incredible arse.

Kyle snorted at the stray thought that had invaded his mind. Less than a day and I’m already falling for the man?

He dried off with a cloth, then considered what to do next. The cabin was already growing dark and he didn’t know where any flints were to light the lanterns. Might as well go to bed.

Which presented him with a question he’d forgotten to ask: there was only one bed. Was he expected to share a bed with Captain Jordan? 

He left his shirt off and climbed onto the large bed. His heart was pounding as he pulled the sheet up over him and lay listening for the captain’s return. Todd was the only person he’d ever been with, and most of that had been passionate kisses and awkward groping. Until one day, Todd had pushed Kyle back on the grass and taken his cock in his mouth. It had been the most incredible experience of Kyle’s life. His cock stirred at the memory and he reached down to loosen the buttons on his trousers. He missed Todd, but he knew it wouldn’t have lasted. Todd had found other companions on his trips to London, and Kyle’s jealousy had been the cause of many arguments between them, had finally driven them apart. And then Kyle’s father had found out about them and it had all come to an end anyway.

And now Captain Jordan was interested in him.

Kyle’s cock stirred again and his fingers brushed down the length through the fabric of his breeches. Captain Jordan, with his deep brown eyes, auburn hair that tucked neatly at the back of his neck except for one stray curl over his right eye, skin tanned light brown by the ocean sun — Kyle had the urge to paint him, rich browns on a sea of green.

He realized he was thrusting against his hand and rolled over, trying to ignore the tightness between his legs. He admitted he was attracted to Jordan. Desired him. So maybe he’d let Captain Jordan have his way with him. If nothing else, maybe he’d have a good fuck or two before they reached Havana and he left this whole experience behind him. 

He took a few deep breaths, then rolled onto his back again. Now the man only had to show up. What was taking him so long? He sighed and closed his eyes. 

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