Lucian/Aron-1812

[klada]

"God damn you," Lucian hisses, jamming his elbow into the gut of the British sailor that he managed to get into a fight with.

He hadn't been a sailor for long. He didn't entirely know how to fight, considering he mostly kept to himself, and the friends he did have weren't the fighting type. He hadn't been defending himself for long, and had already received a fist into his lip. The tender flesh there had cut on the other man's knuckle and even the inside of his lip had even cut on his teeth when his head swung back, only to meet the fist of another man.

Luican's body went limp, and his vision contracted into a tunnel before he hit the wooden deck of the boat with a slam. The harsh impact of his cheek against the wood would be the last contact he had with the old ship. The British had need extra soldiers, and the young man was the perfect opportunity to get an able bodied one for free.
They don't drag him silently. He swears and he fights, despite the fact that it only does more damage to him, more bruises, and a severe punch to his left eye that is already beginning to swell.

Lucian opened his eyes, winced, and then shut them again in order to protect himself from the cruel sunlight that had met contact with the ocean colored pupils. Blood poured into his eye from a large cut above his eyebrow, and the smack to the back of the head has made him dizzy. Perhaps it caused him to black out for a second as well, because he doesn't remember being thrown to the wood of a boat yet again, face pressed up against the planking.
His mind isn't fully conscious yet, as if he was waking up from a nap instead of being thrown around like a rag doll on the deck of a ship. He knows he's been beaten though, and he knows when to stop fighting and to lie down and take a beating.

The British don't seem to care that their prize doesn't respond, and he listens to the lecture and the general chaos of the ship. Words float through his head selectively, almost as if only some of them were filtering through the blood and pain in his body.

He manages to figure out what's going on though, judging by the surroundings and the words that he can process dully.
He's been captured. For so long, the impressment had seemed so far away. First, it was because he was on land and now it was because nothing like that could happen to him. 

Lucian was wrong.

Lucian couldn't be sure how long he had been lying there (not long, considering his body would be in the way of work) drifting in and out of consciousness before he finally opened his eyes and drew his gangly limbs together to stand up, only to find his knees too weak to support his weight, and Lucian found himself right back where he had started, much to the amusement of the sailors who had captured him.