A/N: Hello, and thanks for reading my story! I am currently editing it to make it more descriptive as well as to make it flow better, so please forgive the updates you might get when there isn't a new chapter posted! I want to make it more steampunk! Also, to my new readers, I switch point-of-views a lot, but usually there's a break or new chapter before I switch, so hopefully it won't be too confusing.

Off the coast of Italy, December, 1899.

What am I doing with my life? Antonio Carriedo wondered to himself as he wrapped his free arm tighter around the slight Italian girl's waist. The other hand held a dainty pistol—not his, naturally—to the girl's dark curls. He cut an imposing figure in his high-waisted dark trousers and dark blue frock coat, complete with the gentleman's hat that sat jauntily on his curly brown locks. Everyone in the grand dining room on the airship the Gloriana watched in nervous anticipation as he announced in his cheerful, boisterous voice, "Don't worry! We're only here for your valuables. If you would kindly hand over any jewelry, silver, or fine items you might possess to my capable crew, we will be on our way." He locked eyes with a handsome older man with the girl's same brown hair and eyes across the room, undoubtedly the owner of the fine ship. "No one needs to get hurt," he emphasized, making sure that the pistol was clearly in the man's sight. Ay, Dios mio, I hate to frighten the ladies, Antonio thought regretfully as the girl began to cry. Still, it had to be done, if he and his crew were to have any protection against Romulus Vargas' angry men, who were glaring daggers at the sky pirates that made their way confidently throughout the beautiful ship.

"Why are you doing this?" The girl he held onto demanded, glaring at him through watery eyes.

"Shhh, bella, as long we get what we need, you'll be fine," he replied, not answering her question and not taking his eyes from the man, undoubtedly the famous Romulus Vargas himself.

"So help me God, if you touch one hair on my bambina's head, I will skin you alive, you rotten Spanish bastard," the Italian gentleman snarled. The Spanish bastard in question just grinned. It hadn't been his plan to take the airship, but when his navigator had spotted the ship emerge from above the Mediterranean clouds, it had been all too easy. They were over Italian land, a neutral country, and the liner was a defenseless luxury passenger ship, no doubt headed for the safety of France, away from the advances of the Russian Empire; many of the more eastern European and African aristocratic families were heading west to escape the military conquests of the power-crazed Ivan Braginski. The Vargas family ship was unmistakable, with the family crest emblazoned on the side of the ship, steadily chugging along under the massive hydrogen-filled balloon. Even in Antonio's beloved Spain, the Vargas family was renowned for their wealth and prosperity. Well, they had been, anyway, before his pirate crew got a hold of them. The Italian girl he was gripping began to shake a little, but he effectively ignored her and monitored the activity on the ship.

He watched his crew carefully move past him through the ornate doorway of the lavish dining room to the hallway and then to the catwalk, where the boarding took place. Another of his crew, a slight brunet Greek, nodded at him as he carried yet another chest of fine Italian wines to Antonio's ship, the Santa Maria. Yes, things are going quite smoothly, Antonio thought, pleased. They needed to move before too long, however; his navigator had sighted threatening clouds on the horizon advancing towards them.

Just then, the navigator in question drew his attention. Mathias Kǿhler, a tall, muscular blond, sidled up to a diminutive girl standing next to Vargas, cheekily lifted a beautiful garnet necklace from around her neck, getting rather close to her cleavage as he did so.

"Don't touch me, pirate bastard!" She shrieked, slapping away his hand. Mathias laughed, greatly amused, and dangled the necklace out of her reach infuriatingly.

"I like her, Capitan," he called out to Antonio, who was watching him incredulously. "Can we keep her?"

"Get away from my granddaughter," Vargas snarled, pushing the girl behind him. Mathias quickly drew his knife, pressing it the older man's neck.

"Not so fast, Grandpa," he said with a devilish grin. "I was just having a bit of fun."

"Get off our ship, figlio di troia ," the granddaughter hissed.

"Mathias, listen to the lady," Antonio called, leading the quivering girl at his side over to them. His navigator rolled his blue eyes and reluctantly complied, but not before winking at the fuming Italian girl again. Nearly all of his crew had returned to the Santa Maria, except for his first mate, Vash Zwingli, who waited patiently behind him, making sure nothing went wrong, and his second mate, who waited by the catwalk. "I am sorry for my navigator, senorita," he apologized to the irate Italian, who bore an uncanny relation to the brunette in his arms. They must be sisters, he mused. How cute! She glared at him, golden brown eyes brimming with anger.

"Let my sister go, bastardo," she demanded, not looking in the least afraid of him, although she still hid somewhat behind her grandfather.

"All in good time," he said with a sunny smile. "I can't have my men or I getting shot by your papi, now can I?" He cocked the pistol for good measure. The girl in his arms heard the sound and started to cry quietly, much to Antonio's dismay.

"That's the last of the goods, Kapitän," his second mate said from behind him. "Shall we?"

"Certainly, if mi cariña will excuse me," Antonio said, beaming at the auburn-haired girl, who let out an indignant, "The fuck did you just call me?" He chuckled, delighted with her temper. She was rather adorable, even with that round face and scowl. Her auburn hair began to slip out of the neat bun piled high on her head, giving her a wonderfully disheveled appearance. Her pinstripe blouse had slipped out of the high-waisted royal blue skirt that accentuated her small waist and emphasized her wealthy background—in the back of his mind he thought that her ensemble could probably pay for his crew's supplies for a week. Some people didn't realize how easy they had it. He found himself feeling a little regretful that he had to leave, but he knew that his first mate would have his head if he didn't go soon, so he carefully began to walk backwards, gently pulling the other Vargas girl with him, his gun hand never faltering from her head.

"I will let you go at the catwalk," he whispered in her ear, earning a glare from both of her relatives. "Do not attempt to get away before that. You are not to leave the catwalk until I have boarded my ship. My men will have guns trained on you until I am safely aboard again. Do you understand? No running to your abuelo before then." They had almost exited the dining room when a shot rang out, and Antonio instinctively threw himself on the ground, bringing the Vargas girl down with him. "Shit," he exclaimed, looking around for the perpetrator, peeping out from behind an overturned table. It was her sister! What the hell? She would risk shooting her sister to kill him? He thought.

He didn't have time to focus on that because his first mate, Vash Zwingli, had grabbed him by the lapels of his captain's coat and jerked him towards the door, slamming it behind them as he fired a shot in the direction of the Vargases.

"Let me go!" His captive wailed, now actively fighting Antonio's death grip.

"Sorry, querida, it looks like you're coming with us!" He shouted, dashing down the hallway to the catwalk, where the boarding platform waited. Vash ran behind them, firing at the men who had burst through the door and were actively pursuing them.

At the end of the narrow catwalk, Antonio's second mate Ludwig Beilschmidt waited impatiently, standing by the tough steel cords that anchored the smaller airship. "Hurry, Kapitän!" He yelled. His blue eyes widened in shock as he laid eyes on his captain and his charge, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Get on the ship!" Antonio ordered to Vash, shoving the crying girl at him. In doing so he gave up his protection temporarily, but Vash nodded and forced her up the boarding stairs, knowing that once she was out of sight, the Vargas' men wouldn't hesitate to fire on them.

Romulus Vargas was a mere twenty feet from where the pirates stood, grappling with the tightening cords as the Santa Maria groaned against the wind. The gangway door was open, and the heavy winds forced them back away from the exit. "Shoot and she dies!" Vash belted over the roar, as his captain stumbled up the boarding stairs to the ship.

Vargas and the dozen men behind him watched with helpless rage as the pirate airship began to rise, straining the tense cables holding the two ships together. Something caught Antonio's eyes as Ludwig, with great effort, undid the cables latched onto the sturdy pillars on the gangway. That girl again! She raced towards Ludwig with a pistol in her hand, about to fire, when he carelessly brushed her aside. The ship jerked suddenly, rising with a powerful gust of wind, and she went tumbling towards the edge of the gangway.

Instinctively, Antonio reached out and latched onto her wrist, narrowly saving her from certain death, and pulled her up with a grunt onto the boarding stairs, holding her securely. With a powerful tug, the cables came loose, and Ludwig jumped onto the stairs with them, corralling them back up the stairs and into the interior of the ship. The heavy steel door slammed shut immediately behind them, shielding them from the gunfire that was almost certainly aimed their way.

"Mein Gott, that was too close," his first mate groaned. He stuffed his Ordnance Revolver back in the inside pocket of his coat and, seeing that his captain was uninjured, made his way to the control room.

But Antonio was rather distracted by the shaking girl in his arms, who had instinctively wrapped her arms around him and was shaking profusely. "Are you alright?" He asked with concern. She must've dropped the pistol when she nearly went over, because she didn't have it in either of the hands that were pressed warmly against his back.

She couldn't speak for a full thirty seconds, and then she released him and let out a torrent of Italian curse words that fairly made his ears burn. "Get off of me!" She yelled, her face red with exertion. "I can't believe you kidnapped me! Dammit!"
"I saved your life!" Antonio exclaimed, although he wasn't really mad. She was really too adorable to be mad at.

"But you kidnapped mi sorella! And then you kidnapped me! Bastard!" She shouted. She seemed quite fond of that last word, the pirate captain thought with amusement.

"I am sorry," he said brightly, with a smile that rather negated his apology. "But you tried to kill us, and then you very nearly got yourself killed! I am afraid you will be with us for some time, señorita."

With a gusty sigh, the Italian stood up and shoved past him, moving further into the interior of the Santa Maria. Antonio watched her go, idly wondering where she thought she was going. Having the two granddaughters of the most powerful man in Italy would make traveling a bit more difficult, he mused, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to be too upset about it.

Some small notes.

Human names, in order of appearance:

Spain- Antonio Carriedo, Captain

fem!North Italy- Feliciana Vargas

Roman Empire- Romulus Vargas/Grandpa Roma

Greece- Heracles Karpusi, bo'sun/boatswain

Denmark- Mathias Kǿhler, navigator

fem!South Italy- Lovina Vargas

Switzerland- Vash Zwingli, first mate

Germany- Ludwig Beilschmidt, second mate

Some little translations, using roughly my knowledge and Google translate:

Spanish:

Ay, Dios mio- oh, my God

Querida- sweetheart, dear

Senorita- unmarried woman; lady

Mi carina- my dear, my sweetheart

Abuelo- grandfather

Italian:

Bella- beautiful girl

Bambina- little/baby girl

Figlio di troia- son of a bitch

Bastardo- bastard

Sorella- sister

German:

Mein Gott- my God

Kapitän- Captain

Reviews are welcome, as always!