Again, Alfred thought, as he desperately tried to contain the urge to roll his eyes.

Again, he was standing there, listening to his father, the governor, lecture him about leaving the premises. He wasn't royalty, he thought, so why is it important he must act like he is? He was just a son of the governor. Did people really care about his political views? Did people really care about what he did? Did people really care about how he woke up, what he ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and what he did during his free time? With how many times he sees his father shake his head in disappointment, he thinks they do. Or maybe, perhaps, it was just his father who really cared.

Either way, he didn't really matter to him.

"You're giving me a bad image," his father said as he rubbed his temples exhaustedly. "It is good that you are getting a public image, but this… Not to mention the way you draw attention to yourself. It's embarrassing."

No longer resisting the urge to do so, America rolled his eyes silently, and mouthed every word his father said in his next sentence:

"As my son, you are supposed to behave like a good boy. Your image reflects my own. I don't want you to—"

"Do manual labor, hang around town and stuff like that. I know I know," Alfred interrupted, ignoring the glare sent from his father. In the back of his mind, we wondered why his father couldn't be more like Uncle Sam. Now that guy was a good guy. "Alright, I'll stay within the premises tomorrow." Behind his back, he crossed his fingers, and managed to contain a creeping smile on his face. "I promise."

But the next day, to no one's surprise, Alfred was out and about in the bustling town with the sun's beam on his face as it always seemed to do. He was carrying hefty wooden crates along with a shopkeeper assistant, careful not to bump anyone who happened to walk by. It was fairly difficult, as the town was small but the population was large.

Being three steps ahead of Alfred, the shopkeeper assistant called out to him, his voice strained, "That isn't too heavy for you, is it boy?"

On instinct, Alfred answered, "Heh, of course not!" But in all honesty, it was straining his arms, he could hardly see above the crate, and his legs wobbled with every slow step he took. However, he couldn't bear giving up. That's just how he is, he thinks to himself conceitedly. He's just too stubborn to give up, and he's proud of that fact. After all, he wasn't Alfred F. Jones without sticking his noses into other's business.

Not long after, much to his relief, they dropped the crates in a dark and dusty cellar under the shopkeeper's shop, and they both wiped the sweat from their brows. Alfred looked up at the man and grinned, "Is that all, Paul? Do you have anything else I can help out with?"

Paul dismissed him, "No, that's all today Alfred." He took a breath and wiped his gleaming forehead again, "Thanks a lot, boy. Though I didn't ask for your help, you're incredibly ready to lend a hand! Oh, here." The man dug in his pockets leisurely before handing out a fist to Alfred, "For helping out today." Alfred put his hand out and felt multiple coins in his palm.

Outside, Alfred deeply breathed in fresh air through his nose and exhaled out of his mouth, feeling accomplished. He looked at his hand and counted the amount of money he's gotten with a frown. "Seriously? Twelve pieces? That's it?" He put the money in his pants pocket and walked down the road. After passing multiple shops and flirting with some girls who just so happened to walk by, Alfred decides to take a shortcut down an alleyway to the local pub. 'Shouldn't take me long,' he thought as he walked down the narrow way.

His eyes glazed by multiple wanted posters that surely haven't been there before, and, curious, he halted his footsteps and backed up.

His eyes read, 'Wanted Pirate Rewards'. He scoffed. Pirates, the lowest criminals there are. Alfred can't stand them, as they are unjust, and Alfred loves justice. So naturally, anyone going against the law is his enemy. He's heard many stories from travelers, about the most dangerous pirates in the world.

Gilbert Beilschmidt, Arthur Kirkland, and Francis Bonnefoy.

"You can always tell how dangerous a pirate is by the rewards on his head," he recalled an old sailor telling him.

It couldn't hurt to look.

He snatched one of them off the wall and looked at the portrait drawn on the crusty brown paper. The man in the picture had wavy hair with a devious smile on his face, dressed elegantly it seemed, and in fact, he almost looked like a woman. 'How is this guy a wanted criminal?' He looked at the price for Pirate Bonnefoy's head, "Low millions." Disregarding it, he grabbed another crisp paper, and saw a rough looking man who seemed to be laughing at him, along with a man in the background with slick back hair, expressing his disgust. "He's got that right," Alfred muttered. He looked down at the price on Pirate Beilschmidt's head and tore the paper in two. Holy crap, this guy was worth billions! ...After recovering from his initial shock, he let the ripped papers fly into the wind and takes another poster from the wall. It's another man with short hair, but he's got an eye patch and deadly smirk on his face, but that is forgotten when Alfred took a peek at the man's eyebrows that stood out. Alfred sniggered a little, "Pirate Kirkland… How can anyone's eyebrows be so huge? …Maybe the artist made a mistake." He looked at how much he was worth, which was well more than the woman's, but lower than the laughing man. Shrugging, Alfred released the paper and let it float to the floor. "Hmm. Oh, yeah, I should get to the pub. Jackson is waiting for me."

The pub was brimming with life, as it always was. Sounds of talk and laughter bounced off the wooden walls, submerging it in an exciting but comforting atmosphere. Jackson, a young man of the same age group as Alfred, drank his ale while he glared at his friend. "Alfred, come on! Just relax! Haven't you been working your ass off all day? I came here to drink with you, not watch you work."

Alfred had a familiar grin on his face, the goofy smile he always put out. "Sorry, I saw Sally having trouble with the barrels and I couldn't resist!" He playfully rolled the barrel to the other end of the bar.

His friend slipped from his drink. "It's not like she actually asked you for help. Have you ever heard of 'minding your own business'? Because, you know, you should try that sometime Alfred. I'm just saying."

Alfred shrugged, his expression unchanging, "Yeah, that'll be the day when I'll be able to read the atmosphere." Suddenly, a finger tapped his shoulder lightly and when Alfred turned around, it was Sally. She thanked him (although she didn't ask for the help) and sent him away him from behind the counter. Satisfied, he walked over to Jackson and sat down on one of the wooden chairs and, finally, talked to him.

But their chat didn't last long, as Jackson spotted soldiers at the front counter. They, without trouble this time, escorted Alfred out of the pub and into his home, where he is lectured again.

"How many times do I have to tell you!" was Alfred's greeting. "Alfred, son, it's dangerous out there for a son of a governor. You do know people, disgusting people, kidnap wealthy children like you for ransom? I'm looking out for your safety." Yeah right, Alfred thinks, as he rolled his eyes. "They can kidnap you, and they can ask for all of my precious things I would not dare give up! Many of it is passed down for generations and I'll be damned if I have to give it up because you got yourself kidnapped! Like this statue for instance, this was your grandfather's…"

And at that moment, Alfred couldn't take it anymore and decided to walk away from his father during mid speech (it wouldn't be the first time) and put himself to bed.

In the dark, he lay on his comfortable mattress and stared listlessly out the window, at the black sky, blanketed by clouds, yearning for another life. Yearning for a life where he doesn't represent his father, where he has nothing to do with politics, where he can just do whatever he wants, whenever he wanted. Like going on an adventure, digging for lost gold… But he knew that such a life is not possible, not in the world he lives in. "This sucks." He sighed loudly and turned on his bed, looking forward to a night's rest.

Not too far off the coast, among the vast murky black waters of the ocean, laid a large narrow ship. Within, there was a group of men surrounding a lone wooden table in the middle of the cabin, around a single candlelight. On the table lay a paper that mapped the western world. They whispered harshly among each other as they waited in anticipation, grinning and sneering like hyenas.

Suddenly, with a loud bang, the door busts open with a kick, and an overbearing man donned in a red coat walked over to the table. With each step, his heavy boots echoed, and the gold accessories he wore clattered and jingled throughout the cabin. He stopped at the table and looked blankly at the map.

The man next to him, his first mate, pointed to a location nearest to them. "Here," he said in a low voice but it sounded loud in the quiet, "This is where they took him. We're ready when you are."

The man donned in red smirked with a deadly intent.

The next night, Alfred was out of the house once again, disobeying his father's wishes and was eating with Jackson, as they planned to do the previous night. As usual, the pub is booming with life and brightness and joy, until everyone quieted down at an unfamiliar muted sound outside.

"Gunshots?" Jackson whispered as he turned to Alfred from the dark windows. "Do you think it's the marines?"

"I have no idea."

But the noises stopped. After being sure of themselves that it was nothing to worry about, the pub goes back to its usual activity until gunshots are heard again, but its closer, Alfred thought. The regulars whispered among each other in worry.

Abruptly, all at once, the door is kicked in, the windows are smashed, and the once calm pub is now a jumble of chaos. Women were screaming, men were yelling, tables were flipped and chairs were thrown, and guns were fired to the roof by…

"Pirates!" Alfred exclaimed and grabbed his chair and prepared to throw it, but Jackson yanked his arm harshly.

"What are you doing, Alfred? Come on, we gotta get out of here!" Jackson doesn't wait for Alfred's protest as he grabbed the chair and threw it at the window. He tugged Alfred out of the pub with him. When Alfred looked up, he saw that the town was in disarray. As far as his eyes could see, smoked raised from multiple buildings and everyone ran in the streets. He took a step, and felt something under his foot. It was a body, but Alfred couldn't tell if it was a pirate, or a soldier, or a civilian. But next to the person's hands lay a sword that gleamed in the moonlight that caught Alfred's eye. He reaches down to take it, but Jackson pulls on him. "We need to get out of here!" He runs for it, but when he noticed that Alfred wasn't running with him, he glanced back and called, "Alfred! Come on!"

Alfred looked back at him, "I won't run away!"

Jackson shook his head, and ran away.

Alfred, thrilled, grabbed the sword and charged into the chaos.

Alfred stopped running when he saw a solider fighting against one of the pirates, but he was having trouble. The wounded soldier fell when the pirate casted away his sword so effortlessly. He rose his arm up and Alfred found the perfect opportunity to interfere.

Right before the final blow is struck to the soldier, Alfred slid in and shielded the strike with his sword. Taken back, the pirate backed off and cocked his head at Alfred before sneering. "Goin' 'ead to 'ead with a pirate? You got some balls mate."

Alfred positioned his sword, even though he was sure it was the wrong way, it wouldn't be cool to suddenly change it up right, and said, "I'm not your mate you unjust filth!" and thrusted his sword forward, but the pirate evaded smoothly. With a grunt, Alfred quickly blocked the sweep of the pirate's blade that was aimed for his hip. He stepped back, provoking the pirate to rush in, and luckily, he took the bait. The pirate leaped him, his sword help up high and came down fast toward Alfred but Alfred would never feel the impact on his sword.

Another soldier appeared and managed to block the pirate's attack. "Alfred," he says to him, "Go home!"

"No way! I want to stay and fight!"

The soldier, never turned away from the pirate he's engaged with, tells him, "You never did listen to what others say, did you…? Just, go home Alfred!"
"No!" And Alfred, just to spite the soldier, ran deeper into the chaotic town.

No longer in the wide open, Alfred hid behind trees, taking occasional glances for pirates and soldiers alike. But a scream is heard, and Alfred's head poked out from behind the tree, seeing a woman run toward him, and a pirate too not far behind. An idea to hold the sword out for the pirate to run into is quickly put out, knowing that that could possibly kill him. As much as he hated these guys, the idea of spilling blood wouldn't make him any better than they were. Looking around him in the patches of grass, he found an empty bottle of rum and decided it should be enough. He placed himself firmly behind a tree and waited until the woman ran by. Once she did, he quietly counted to three and held out the rum bottle.

For a moment, he wondered if he held it out too early or too late, but he felt the pirate run into the bottle, flip once, possibly twice, and pass out on the ground.

Alfred moved away from the tree to observe the body below him. "Wow, these guys aren't very smart, are they?"

He ran further into the turmoil, only to find two pirates and two soldiers sword fighting side by side. Although they look like they'll be alright, Alfred decided to help them anyway, even if they don't want it. When he arrives, the two soldiers, not taking their eyes off the enemy, told Alfred to go home. He pouted. "Come on, let me help!"

One of the solders grunted out, "You're the governor's son, Alfred, you need to go home and be safe!"

The next thing Alfred knew was that both soldiers were knocked out cold thanks to a couple of rum bottles smashed on their heads.

"What—" In his shock, Alfred arms were restrained behind his back by two broad arms and he dropped the rusty sword he brought with him. He was caught off guard.

A third pirate, whom Alfred didn't see at first, grabbed his chin and asked, "Are you the son of the gov, mate?" His breath stunk so much that Alfred's face contorted in disgust.

"Let me go!" was Alfred's answer.

The pirates holding Alfred smirks and talked behind him. "I'll take that as a 'yes'. Let's take him to the captain; I'm sure he'll make great use of this."

It was a harsh, grueling walk back to the port, where Alfred has started from. On the pier, he glanced up at the pirate ship they were taking him to. It was a marine ship in a sense, only a bit more modified for battle. Two flags waved in the windy air; a Jolly Roger, and a United Kingdom. Alfred tried to resist boarding the ship by digging his feet into the ground, but the pirates were too big for him to handle. They dragged him onto the ship.

"Let me go already!" Alfred yelled, and struggled in their unmoving grasps. He wanted to run away. He wanted to run back to the town, that's for sure, but mostly because he couldn't stand the sight of his town being ransacked by a bunch of dirty criminals. But they made him watch from their ship. He heard pats on the backs and talks of celebration behind him and Alfred felt sickened. How could anyone celebrate? Why would anyone consider destruction an achievement?

Looking to the side, he saw crates and barrels and supplies being stacked onto the ship's deck. There's one he recognizes one from the pub. He tried to escape the holds of the pirates again, but it was no use. He didn't give up trying to escape; he just had no energy to fight, because he was hungry and tired. He wished the adrenaline from eariler would come back to him. He watched is town in turmoil still, and gathered little energy to try to shake the pirates loose again. "Let go of me!"

"Dammit, kid! Just stand still!"

Alfred struggles only harder until he is kicked on the back of his knee and made him kneel. He tries to get up but it's no use, the pirates firmly held him down. With nothing else he could do, he glared at any and every pirate who passed him up, who in turn paid him no mind.

There were two pirates who boarded the ship at the same time, one looked like every other pirate, but the other looked different, mostly because of his large build and peg leg. Other pirates welcome him on the ship cheerfully (Alfred rolled his eyes) and a different pirate, with hair slightly lighter than his own, called for the pirates to come back, as they got what they came for. Alfred tilted his head, confused. It was weird, he can almost see right through this pirate. He was just so… plain, and simple. There was nothing particularly interesting about him, despite him being a lowlife.

Alfred looked to see pirates gathering up onto the ship while fighting some of the soldiers off on the pier. He tried to get up but the pirates still didn't let down their guard. From behind him, he can hear the sails falling behind them as they prepare to sail off, and his heart dropped to the floor. Slowly, as he could hear cannons firing now, he realized that he was being kidnapped from his home, that we was sailing away from his home, on ship with a bunch of pirates.

Now a safe distance where cannons cannot reach, the crew celebrated, patting the peg-pirate's back. The slightly-invisible-pirate patted him on the shoulder and grabbed it firmly. With a genuine smile, he told him, "Welcome back."

The peg-pirate expressed his gratitude to him and the rest of the crew. "I can't believe the captain actually came back for me."

"The captain will never leave a mate of his behind!"

"Aye!"

"A good captain, he is."

Unexpectedly, the door is kicked open by a pair of heavy boots, and everything became still, save for the steps the man donned in red made. Alfred tried to see who this guy was but it was too dark to make out through the shadow casted by his feathered hat. However, he could see the smirk the man wore on his visage. "I see you're back," he said to peg-pirate, and Alfred is taken back at his heavy English accent.

Peg-pirate grinned an ugly toothless grin and promised a feast for his return, and the pirates cheered, while the man in red only nodded slightly. His expression changed, however, when his eye glanced over to Alfred. "Who is this," he asked, tone lowering.

One of the pirates spoke up. "I know you said no prisoner's this time, but this mate 'ere is the gov's son. We found him outside fightin' our men."

The man merely smirks.

Alfred started to get annoyed, "Yeah, and you know what? I'd keep fight too. I'm not afraid of you lowlifes. Ugh, let. Me. Go!" He struggled in the pirate's hold but stops when the man donned in red towered over his body.
"Do you know who I am, lad?" he asked.

"I don't care who you are, you're all the same jackasses to me." Alfred can see the man's smirk grow only wider, and the all of pirates sniggered and laughed. He still tried to escape the pirate's clutches until the man who was once towering over him descended to Alfred's eye level and his smirk disappears.

Alfred was prepared to gather all of the saliva in his mouth to spit on the pirate's face, but he swallowed when he finally saw his features. One eye patch covered his eye; the other emerald green eye stared at him, a cold empty stare that seemed to make Alfred shiver. His mouth was in a grim line, and although he looked no older than himself, his presence had an authority of a commander, a captain. But one feature that stood out of everything.

His eyebrows. His incredibly thick eyebrows.

And Alfred's mouth slackened as his eyes widened in disbelief.

The man's smirk returned again but this time only deadlier. He cocked his head and cooed Alfred. "Oh? So you have heard of me."

Alfred couldn't gulp, even if he tried. His voice was lost and he babbled incoherent words until he remembered how to form a sentence. "Y-You're… the pirate with the seconded highest bounty on his head," He swallowed, remembering how deadly he looked in the wanted poster, remembering how much he was worth, "You're… Pirate Kirkland!"

A/N: this is my first hetalia fic and not only that i haven't written fic in a loonnng time so sorry if anything is awkwardly worded ;_;
tell me what you think!