It was afternoon on Sea-King's throne, the sky slowly turning from blue to gold. No one was on board the huge pirate vessel, the entire crew relaxing after weeks at sea. Everyone, that is, except the shell of a man. Gangrel was cleaning the ship, making repairs, and organizing the relative chaos the pirates had left behind. Not that he cared; it was just another thing to do.

He was in the map room, shelving rolls of parchment, when he noticed that the ship's log was open, a blank page between two different entries. He stared at it for a long while, disturbed a bit by the untouched paper. He tried to ignore it, but couldn't seem to force himself to. Finally, he gave in, bringing the log to the center of the table. He ripped the offending page free, slamming the heavy book shut and shoving it back into it's place. Pocketing the sheaf of parchment, Gangrel hurried through the rest of his work and all but fled back to land.

Finding seclusion wasn't always easy on Sea-King's throne, but Gangrel had a multitude of hideaways. In a small thicket of trees, he smoothed out the paper and stared at it again, pondering for a moment before bringing out a pen and inkwell he'd stashed away some time ago, under a large stone halfway buried in the earth. The tip of the utensil black with ink, the former king put to paper the words he could not say.

The name I was given at the time of my birth was Gangrel. The title given to me when I sat upon the throne of Plegia was the Mad King. The name the pirates gave to me is Maggot. I do not know why I'm writing this. Is it a manifesto? A suicide note? A confession?

Once the words were written, Gangrel realized that he truly didn't know why he would write such a thing. Was it a plea for someone to know his pain, his guilt? Leaving the page blank had just seemed wrong somehow, as if this chapter in his story being untold was worse than anything that came before. I haven't decided, he wrote after a moment's deliberation.

Plegia is no longer my kingdom; she belongs to whomever has succeeded me. The weight of the crown has been lifted, but replaced by something greater and heavier: my own guilt. I have killed hundreds in the name of power, for a vain conquest that has accomplished nothing but more suffering for my people. How many years have I known pain and anguish? It is nothing compared to the tortures I suffer daily, feeling each drop of blood on my hands drag me down to hell. I would take it all back if I could. But I can't. Gods know I can't.

Gangrel's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of commotion nearby. He could hear the pirates' shouts. Something about a ship coming near to dock. Silently, he re-hid the pen and inkwell in the ground and ran out of the trees, the parchment clutched in his hand. Within minutes he was back on board the ship, pretending he had never left. His note was carefully tucked into the back cover of the log, hidden from sight.

He did not care if anyone found it. In fact, if it were ever uncovered, Gangrel would be pleased; peasantry was a harsh part of reality and for someone-anyone-to know his true identity as a former king would be far better than living in complete anonymity. Misery did love company, after all.

Zanth came running, calling his men to order as loudly as his voice would let him.

"Yar! Cavalry's come to claim yer heads, maggots! To arms or I be killin' ye first! Hey! Got salt in yer ears, maggot? I said to move yer maggoty hide!"

When Gangrel realized that the captain was talking to him, he scowled.

"Maggot..." he repeated, listlessly, thinking back to the time that he wouldn't have taken this insult lying down. Quite the fall.

"Yar, maggot," Zanth growled walking up the gangplank so he could stand on equal ground with the red-haired man. "And if the maggot has further questions, my blade can answer 'em."

"...The maggot is fine, thanks" Gangrel answered, trying to constrain the trickle of anger that wormed it's way into him. Zanth scoffed and turned his back, continuing to mock his lowest crewman. The former king turned away, his hands clenching into fists when the pirate captain announced that it was the Ylissean Prince himself come to rid the south of the Dread Pirates.

So you finally caught up with me, Gangrel thought bitterly as the crew took up their battle stations. Took you long enough. Don't mess up your chance to finally be rid of me.

Lifelessly picking up a Levin Sword, the Mad King set out to meet his demise.

Nisha glanced sideways at their newest recruit doubtfully. She had no idea what Chrom had been thinking, inviting a former enemy into their ranks. But-wise or not-it was her job as tactician to make certain that everyone in the Shepherds had a place. Gangrel didn't have much to offer to begin with, other than the stolen goods that were still hiding in the Pirates' ship.

"Where's the map room?" Nisha asked. Gangrel's expression changed to one of panic for half a second, then slipped back into the same apathy as before.

"Go one level belowdecks. It's the first door to the right. Should be locked, but I wouldn't be surprised if it isn't."

Nisha turned her back to him, a bit reluctantly, but went down the steps anyway. The door was indeed unlocked, so the young tactician walked right in, absorbing the organization of the room with a glance. The ship's log was exactly where she'd expected. She flipped through the thick volume, absorbing details of the raids. When she finished with the log, she stowed it away under her cloak. As she did so, a scrap of paper slid free from the back cover. Curious, she picked it up.

The handwriting was an unfamiliar scrawl, as if the writer was afraid of being caught-or just had too much on his mind. Nisha quickly glanced at the ajar door. No one was outside in the hall, so she carefully closed the door and lifted the note so she could decipher the wild letters.

The name I was given at the time of my birth was Gangrel.

A/N: aaaand we're done! Thanks for reading(and being patient with my erratic update schedule)! Special thanks to Sparks101 for being my idea trampoline!

(Oh yeah, anonymous reviewer Woods, this might not be a Gangrelx Fem!MU fic, but I'm going to write one that's supposed to be a sort of sequel to this one. Hope that answers your question. :D)

Until next time, Adios Amigos!

~Dem0nLight