#could i have saved this for gordo's bday maybe..... did i well obvs not lol

[tracybirds]

some happy cheerful outside the world of canon writing :D Well I suppose it could have happened :DD feat. smol!Tracy boys because they’re cute :D

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alan,” yelled Gordon over the whistling wind as the deck beneath their feet pitched and swayed. “Get those supplies below deck, or we’ll lose them.”

“Aye aye,” cried Alan, scrabbling at the catch on the trap door. “Securing them now.”

Gordon wrestled with the sail, trying to prevent any further damage. He could already see a number of tears in the thick material that he was going to need to repair when the storm passed, but the longer it remained aloft the more likely it was that the strain on the sail would cause real damage.

“What next cap’n?” asked Alan, struggling to salute and stand upright. He fell against the port side of the ship and banged his arm.

“Ow!”

Gordon looked around with a critical eye. The deck of the ship was sparse, everything else moved below or tied down with knots practiced for hours in their scouting troops. He noted the way the ship was spinning wildly and nodded back to the upper deck.

“Get up there, take control of our steering. Try to keep us on a southern heading, the wind has blown us too far north and I don’t want us to run into the Jaws of Rán.”

Alan shivered at the mention of the sharp pillars that rose from the deep. He had heard tales of ships, her sailors thrown or trapped below as her hull was ripped to shreds. Most were drowned or dashed against rocks and with only a small crew to protect her, they knew the danger to their ship was even greater.

They slept in shifts, both brothers anxious to avoid the treacherous rocks that could scupper their ship. Gordon woke suddenly when he felt a hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes to see Alan’s excited face.

“A bird, cap’n!”

Gordon scrambled out of his bunk and raced above deck. His eyes strained against the grey clouded sky, hoping for a glimpse of the lone bird aloft in the winds. The storm had passed them in the night, the elements moving on to torment new souls.

“It’s a gannet,” he exclaimed in excitement. “It’s not migration season, so that must mean…”

He looked excitably up the mast to the crow’s nest far above.

“Ahoy lookout! What do you see?”

There was a long pause and the brothers looked at each other.

“Lookout?”

Still, there was no reply.

Gordon kicked at the tree trunk, glaring up into the leaves.

“Oi, John! That’s you!”

“Huh?”

John glanced down at them in surprise, his leg swinging below the branch he was perched on.

“Come on, John,” whined Alan. “You’re the lookout, remember.”

“Sorry,” said John, resting his book against his chest. “Um, land ahoy?”

“Which way?” demanded Gordon, crossly.

“Oh uh,” said John, considering. “Thataway.”

The two boys cheered as they raced in the direction he pointed them in. They held short sticks in their hands, occasionally striking out at each other as they ran. Their giggles rang out in the warm, summer afternoon and John smiled to himself as he turned back to his book.

Gordon stopped suddenly and grabbed Alan’s arm.

“Did you see that?” he asked, dropping his stick and getting down on all fours.

“See what?” whispered Alan, copying him.

“There’s something under the house.”

Together, they crept forwards and peered into the gloom.

“ARRRR!” roared Scott and Virgil’s voices together as they jumped out from their hiding places.

Gordon and Alan screamed and stumbled backwards. Gordon’s arm shot out and picked up his branch, brandishing it in front of them.

“Pirates,” he yelled to Alan. “Hold your ground!”

Alan hollered his agreement with a toothy grin, and suddenly the salty sea breeze was around them once more.

Gordon grinned as he transformed into a confident captain and Alan into his first mate, determined to follow orders.

“They’ve boarded us,” yelled Gordon. “Charge!”

They ran at the pirates and the clang of steel striking steel filled the air. Gordon dove under legs and leapt across barrels as they fought valiantly. He pulled Alan out of reach of a vicious swipe at his head and roared as he jumped from the rigging onto one of the pirate’s shoulders. The force of his landing brought the pirate to his knees, all dark scowls and desperate thrashing of limbs that died away when Gordon held his sword against his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alan subduing his own opponent.

“Tie ‘em up, Allie,” he called, tossing his brother the rope. “We should make them walk the plank for their crimes.”

“Hey, what about a fair trial?” complained one of the pirates. Gordon blinked and Virgil swam into view, Alan firmly tying him to the “mast” of their ship.

“We don’t care about a trial,” said Alan with a pout. “Do we?”

“Dunno,” said Gordon with a frown. “How do you do a trial?”

“You need to prove they did the crime,” said John, his voice floating down from the treetops. “And then you need a judge.”

“Oh,” said Gordon, looking thoughtfully at them. “Are you pirates?”

“Yes,” said Scott proudly. Virgil glared at him.

“Easy to say when you’re not being tied to a tree,” he muttered.

“Ask them if they’re guilty,” suggested John.

“Are you guilty,” demanded Alan.

“Yes,” said Scott before nudging Virgil next to him. Alan tugged on Scott’s arm and he cheerfully got up and held still as Alan began looping the rope around him.

“Fine, yes,” said Virgil, wrinkling his nose at Scott.

“And a judge,” said Gordon thoughtfully. He turned back and ran to the door leading inside.

“Dad!” he hollered. “Dad, we need a judge!”

“What for?” called Jeff, sounding distracted.

“Scott and Virgil are pirates!”

“Did they plead guilty?”

“Yes!”

“Walk the plank then.”

Gordon turned to his brothers with a triumphant grin and leaned in menacingly as the wind whipped about his face. There was a large crash of water as waves spilled onto the deck.

“You have been sentenced to walk the plank,” he said grandly. “Would you do me the honour of courage?”

The pirates nodded, eyes fearful and wary of the sword he held.

The wind whistled a solemn tune as they walked slowly to the plank of wood that jutted out from the side of the ship. Gordon and Alan removed their hats and held them over their hearts, a final respect to ensure the pirates died with dignity. As one they leapt from the plank and disappeared into the spray of waves below.

“They were brave,” said Gordon gravely. “And honourable.”

“And wet,” added Alan.

His younger brother walked out across the plank, arms outstretched to help him keep his balance above the treacherous sea. He peered into the waters for any sign of the pirates.

A hand leapt from the ocean and grabbed at Alan’s leg, dragging him down into the deep.

“Sea monster,” he wailed and Gordon leapt into action.

But the sea monster had many limbs and could reach around the other side of the ship, and Gordon felt himself grabbed from behind and swung into the air. He shrieked and fell into Scott’s arms, laughing and giggling and squirming away from his brother who was hitting ever ticklish spot on Gordon’s body.

“I surrender,” he gasped between breathless laughter. “Please, Scott, I surrender.”

“This is payback,” called Virgil with a wicked grin. “See if you make us walk the plank again!”