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fuck-goes-on · 3 years

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Kastila - part one

pairing/s: pero tovar x filipino fem! reader

summary: pero was part of the Spanish expedition with fernando de magallanes to find the new world. after the loss of ships and numerous months on sea, the crew was relieved to have found land. however, they realised they weren't alone.

warning/s: BASED ON HISTORY, historical people and events are dramatised for fictional purposes, period-typical violence, men, nudity, fictional ferdinand magellan is a warning

disclaimer: i am not a historian, i have done all the research i could do, if there are any inaccuracies, i apologise, this is only for fictional purposes

note/s: here it is! my first ever series that i hope wont flop HAHAHA just to be clear, i am filipino, born and raised in the philippines, and i just want to share my country’s history even if its through a fanfic, that means i will be very biased towards my own people and not be nice to the spaniards, awfully sorry :-)

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Pero was sick of the sea.

He never really liked it growing up as a kid, and his feelings about it didn't change as an adult. So you'd think he would turn down the opportunity to be a part of the crew that would find the New World. But, the pay was large and a small part of himself was curious of what they would find.

Pero was sick of the men.

They were loud and boisterous, proud and thick-skulled. He never participated in their daily drinking, always nursing a bottle to himself in his cot, and judged them hard whenever they fought and beat each other up. The men were tiring and he wondered if he could just throw himself into the sea.

Pero was sick of Magallanes.

The man was the head of the expedition, the proudest of them all. His ideas were impressive, and the fact that the Portuguese man went to a Spaniard king for approval and resources after being rejected by his own king was admirable. Doesn't excuse the fact that the man was a complete asshole; Always looking down upon the crew and thinking he was better than the rest of them.

It had months and months of nothing but water, the men were starting to become more irritable, if that was even possible, and Magallanes was slowly going mad with his ideas. Pero paid none of them any attention, focusing on sharpening his swords and polishing his armour for nothing. Their rations were decreasing and soon all they were eating was bread and cheese. With the loss of three ships, they were dancing with death.

Pero was training with one of the men, slashing at the other with his swords, when another crewmate shouted. Everyone, including him, straightened up and ran to get their weapons. He watched with his swords clutched in his hands as Magallanes looked over the horizon with his spyglass. Everybody waited with bated breaths, and when the Portuguese man turned around with a bright face, all the men cheered loudly.

There was finally land spotted, and Pero could not thank God enough.

As the Victoria neared the shore, the crew prepared for a disembarking of the ship. Pero walked to the edge of the hull to inspect the sand and the trees. His eyes were no longer as sharp as they were when he was younger, but he was sure to have seen a silhouette move in the large coconut trees. However, he was quickly pulled away to help the crew before he could say anything to the captain.

When the ship was anchored down as close to shore as possible, Pero joined Magallanes and two men in a small boat to officially land. He couldn’t help but have a bad feeling stirring in his gut, and it only increased just after stepping on the damp sand. As he walked around, not fully separating from the group, they were suddenly surrounded by armed men and... women?

The five natives had long dark hair, long enough to cover their chests, a piece of fabric wrapped around their head to hold it back. Their necks, wrists and ankles were adorned with beaded necklaces and bracelets, accentuating the black marks painted onto their brown skin. Their privates were covered by a beautifully sewn fabric, loincloths and skirts for men and women respectively. They held long spears made of strong bamboo and sharpened rocks tied to the tip of the stick.

One of the native women slowly approached Magallanes, recognising him as their ‘leader’, while holding her spear to his neck. Pero observed quietly, his hands never letting go of his newly polished swords. The woman had her breasts bared open for all to see, unashamed of her nudity, and even had the same marks swirling all over her skin. Her face was twisted in anger, her lips pulled back in a snarl. She was beautiful, he thought to himself.

“Kinsa ka?” (Who are you?) Her voice rang out, both harsh and soft at the same time. “Ngano naa ka diri?” (Why are you here?) Her stance was of someone who had experience, her grip on her spear showed that she was capable of killing them on the spot. When Magallanes didn’t answer, she moved to jab the man with her weapon when another voice stopped her.

“Anak, unsa imong gibuhat? Imong gipagawas sila karon dayon.” (My child, what are you doing? You let them go right now.) A man, dressed the same as the other natives, walked out from the trees with his hands in the air. The woman whipped her head back to stare at the man with a surprised expression before drawing away, the other natives following her as well.

Pero and the crew watched with astonishment as the man walked towards them, the natives bowed their heads and stepped away. The woman softened a tad and pressed the man’s hand to her forehead before stepping away as well, although with reluctance.

The native man was clearly of a higher status, the long dark hair tied back with colourful cloth and beads, a band decorated with feathers and fur wrapped around his head, and gold jewelry on his neck and arms. His smile was blinding as he moved to hug Magallanes, the Portuguese man too shocked to reciprocate.

“Rajah Humabón.” the man pointed to himself as he said what Pero assumed to be his name. He gestured to Magallanes for his name, to which he returned the favour. Humabón turned to the awaiting natives, shouting, “Moapil sa among piyesta karong gabii si Sri Fernando ug ang iyang mga tawo!” (Sir Fernando and his men will join our feast tonight!)

Humabón then used his hands, pushing his fingers together and tapping them to the palm of his other hand before pressing them to his lips, signing the action of eating. Pero sighed and relaxed his stance; He didn’t fully trust the people, but if they had food and were willing to share, then they’re his new best friends.

“Do you think they will actually feed us?” A crewmate whispered to Pero. He shrugged and clapped the man on the back.

“Compadre, I’ll eat regardless if it’s poisoned or not,” Pero said before following Magallanes back to the ships to gather the rest of the men for the meal the natives invited them to. He looked back to see the natives blending back into the trees and bushes, catching the eye of the native woman and bowing his head towards her. It seemed to please her and she walked away with her head held high.

“Father, why did you invite those men to our feast?” You asked him when you finally arrived at the centre of your village, your brows furrowed and expression tense. Your father looked at you with his eyebrow quirked upwards.

You followed your father, the Rajah, back towards your village with annoyance. You directed your frown at his backside, gripping your spear tight and close to your body. The friends who were with you when you ‘greeted’ the strange men were wary of you, knowing how explosive your temper could be.

“My child, when you become the Rani of our village, you will find there are some battles you do not want to start and instead reach your hand out to make allies.” Humabón said, holding your hand in his, patting the back of your palm gently. You pouted at him, not satisfied with that answer, but you know you wouldn’t get anything more than that. “Besides, we should not waste our energy to these men who look like death and instead share with them with our blessings from Bathala. There is also the Datu of Mactan to mention.”

You sighed and relented, hugging your father a farewell and walking towards the hut where your friends were preparing food for the night’s meal. As you made your way, you couldn’t help but think about the man who bowed his head to you before he left for their large boat. His scar running from his left brow to the top of his left cheek was curiously handsome; You’d never seen a man fully clothed in metal and you wondered why they wore it in the first place; Surely it was too hot under all those layers?

Despite not agreeing on allowing the strange men to feast with them, you couldn’t help but be eager to see more of the scarred man.

#special thanks to my mother for helping me with the bisaya dialogue #please applaud my mother she also had no idea why i decided to do this #HAHAHAH #kastila series #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #the great wall #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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