The Pirate and the Priestess {Lovina + Cecily}

[LovinaV]

There was a small and wealthy little harbor on the coast of Italy. It was never to be any place remarkable, and it ended up being little more than a port for smaller shipments destined for inland. It was of course still a town though, and had all the needed additions – small shops and a bank and an inn and a small stately church. There was no shortage of women as well. It was in the church that one such woman lived. She was a beautiful young thing, with a slender body and long brown hair in soft waves and intense eyes and a permanent scowl set on perfect lips in a flawless face. For one who had found religion, her heart was seemingly colder than the unfeeling marble from which the statue of Gesu Cristo was carved.

Her name was Lovina. She had lived in the church for years along with her younger brother Feliciano. They had been adopted in after a tumultuous childhood with unknown parents, a grandfather that loved to play favorites and more custody issues than a king’s bastard son. Father Juliano looked after them, raising them not as his children, but as his workers. That is not to say he was cruel, but both youngsters had felt the sting of a whip on their backs as punishment on rare occasions. More often, it happened to Lovina. The smooth olive skin of her back still displayed several scars.

There was a fateful morning for Lovina. The sun was brilliant and the heat pleasant and life had been normal. Morning services had long since ended and Feliciano was off doing what he did best, cooking. He was somewhat socially awkward, always with good intentions but Lovina preferred him to stay out of sight sometimes. The little twit did have a tendency to annoy her sometimes. Lovina, as long as she did not speak, was better in view sometimes. But she could not open her mouth, for she had a fiery and passionate way of speaking, making the most of her very colorful – and rude - vocabulary. She was an alter girl and Father Juliano had her cleaning the main chapel after every service, a task she looked on with hatred and laziness, but did reluctantly anyway. Her gold cross dangled from her neck as she bent before the statue of the crucifixion, scrubbing at the floor. She was never satisfied with her menial work, but never thought of anything else, really. There wasn’t much she could do with her life. For her numerous faults, she was a loyal servant to Father Julian, Dio and Gesu Cristo now and forever.

[Cecily Phantom]

He was known on the high seas as fearsome, loathsome, the lowest scum of the sea next to Arthur Kirkland himself. His name? Captain Antonio Carriedo. His brown hair, which was somewhat long, was pulled into a low ponytail and held in place by a red ribbon, which matched his scarlet coat and pants. He loved red, it was the color blood and passion and, yes, fear.

"Hurry on, you lot! We have to reach the port in Italy before the storm hits!" he bellowed out, his tenor voice carrying far across his ship with the help of the wind.

To his enemies and crew, Antonio was frightening, a force to be reckoned with. Yet in his private life he was jovial and somewhat of a player. However, he was still a Spaniard and as such, was a strong Catholic. He made a mental note to visit the church as soon as the ship was anchored in port.

[LovinaV]

She took a deep breath and sat up from her kneeling position. The floor was as clean as it was going to get. Lovina looked up into the face of the statue, a quick prayer on her lips as she traced a cross over her chest. It was a personal ritual, always finding time to pray in little spare moments in the day. Most Catholics only prayed on schedule, but not Lovina. In her less than cordial opinion, those Catholics were corrupted, half assed bastards. Her idea of a Catholic was one who showed their devotion any way they could. She proved to herself that her Lord was always on her mind in the little extra gestures she did.

After that quick prayer she stood up, the intense eyes, ever changing shades of brown and gold and green, traveling to the doors of the chapel. She could smell rain approaching, which was odd. Moments ago it had been very lovely outside. Something was off. Lovina set her bucket down on a new spot and continued to scrub. Father Juliano wouldn't like her stopping before she was done.

[Cecily Phantom]

Antonio smiled as they reached port. Quickly he got off of his ship and, after asking around, made his way to the local church. He wanted to pray that his ship would last the approaching storm and light a candle for Papa.

Once he arrived at the church he was slightly surprised. Kneeling on the floor, cleaning it, was a lovely Italian girl, with chestnut brown hair and intense eyes. He watched her and admired her movements; her strong arms, her shoulder blades, the elegant but strong curve in her spine. Antonio was smitten.

[LovinaV]

Lovina felt a prickle along her spine. Was someone watching her? Her eyes widened, thinking it was Father Juliano, but calmed down after a moment, realizing that probably was incorrect. His stares always sent tingles of fear down her, but not this. She looked up after a moment, looking for who was watching her work. At the doors of the church stood a young man. He was dressed all in red, tanned, long brown hair and shining green eyes - shining green eyes that were focused on her. Lovina felt her own eyes narrow. What the hell was this man doing? Who just watched a person work like that?

Her eyes dropped back to the floor quickly, her hands never stopping working the rag against the stone. "Morning mass is over," she called out a moment later. Her voice was just as lovely as her body, low and strong and silky. She tried to make it sound rough but to no avail. "The church is closed." Move the hell on...

[Cecily Phantom]

"Forgive me," he said, his voice silken and seductive. "I came to light a candle for my Papa. Or is that too much to ask?"

He smiled slightly at her, amused by the way she blatantly ignored him. Obviously, she wanted him out of there, though Antonio wasn't sure why. He was an innocent man as far as she knew. His grin grew wider at the thought of what she would say if she knew he was a pirate.

[LovinaV]

Ah. A memorial candle. Most people would have felt some sympathy for him, but Lovina had seen and heard a lot concerning lost loved ones. It wasn't her concern and she had gotten numb eventually. Everyone would have. She didn't even register the tone of his voice, something she wouldn't have recognized anyway. She had never heard what a flirtatious man would sound like. Most wouldn't have the audacity to flirt with a church girl. What was expected of her still existed though and the next time she spoke her voice was maybe just a tiny bit gentler.

"The candles are in the left corner," she informed him bluntly, still not paying him too much mind. However, she did look up at him for a moment, raising an eyebrow. He was dressed... interestingly. There was a certain air of danger simply surrounding him, something Lovina was very suspicious of.

[Cecily Phantom]

Smiling, Antonio walked over to the prayer candles. Lighting one, he said a quick prayer to his father, who had passed several years ago. He remembered his father as kind and gentle, something Antonio rarely was. Turning, he once again addressed the girl.

"Excuse me, but is it too late for a confessional?" he inquired.

Antonio didn't really care if it was or not. He simply wanted to make conversation with the attractive young lady. There was something about her, as if she didn't want to be there, and yet there she was.

[LovinaV]

While he was doing whatever the hell, Lovina had finished cleaning and was about to leave the chapel for the moment to put her cleaning supplies away. However, the last thing he requested made her stop. She had sort of expected him to want a confessional. Many travelers did here. She looked him over again with those skeptical eyes of hers. He certainly seemed like he would have a lot of sins to confess to. Putting her bucket down, she started slowly walking over to him. "It is never too late for a confessional," she said reluctantly. As much as she really didn't care, it was her duty to provide sanctuary for anyone coming to her church seeking it. She wouldn't think of denying someone a confessional. What would God think of her for that?

Turning sharply, she started over to the small wooden booths near the altar. She didn't bother telling the man where they were; surely he wasn't such an idiot as to not know to follow her.

[Cecily Phantom]

Antonio followed her to the booths, entering one slightly as he attempted to look pious. The brunette man felt that the girl knew he was a sinner: a huge sinner. He didn't care of course, he wouldn't change who he was, but Antonio couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of regret.

"When will the Father be arriving?" he asked cheerfully, a smile plastered over his face, making him seem far more cheerful than he really was.

Since he was a small child, Antonio was terrified of confessionals. It wasn't the fact that he admitted he was wrong (though he hated that too), he was just a tad claustrophobic and the small booths made him feel as if he were in the depths of Hell itself.