Pirate EnglandXReader: How Long has it Been?

"How long has it been… since I've seen your beautiful smile..?"
"How long has it been… since I've heard your gentle laugh..?"
"How long has it been… since I've felt your tender kiss..?"
"Too long…"

Arthur Kirkland opened his eyes. Above him stretched the endless blue sky, dotted here and there with puffy white clouds, and the tiny outlines of seagulls' wings. As he sat up, he recalled the strange dream he'd just woken from. It was a dream he had so often, it felt like a permanent part of him now.
His dream was of a girl, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was smiling at him, her (Color) eyes shining with delight. She stood on a white sandy beach; a gentle breeze carried her (Length/Color) hair out in rippling waves. The tide splashed against her toes, but she didn't seem to mind. She was too busy smiling and laughing, waiting for him to return to her. he smiled to himself, because finally, that dream would come true.
Somewhere on the ship, the sound of voices could be heard. Leaning over the rail of the crow's nest, he spotted several of his crew running around the deck, making preparations to dock. He raised his eyes and gazed out over the ocean, from a distance he could see a line of dark bumps rising from the sea; it was land. A grin spread across his face; they had finally returned, after so many years, they were home! In an instant Arthur was on his feet, leaping over the side of the crow's nest, and sliding down the ropes to the deck below. He landed with a thud beside his first mate, Jacobsen. Jacobsen jumped, unprepared for the sudden appearance of his captain by his side, but he quickly got over it.

"We made it Cap'n, home sweet home!" he smiled, revealing several chipped teeth.

"Aye, Jacobsen, we made it. Five years we've been sailing, all to come right back 'round to where we started so long ago. How long until we make port?" he tried to ask the last part casually, but Jacobsen was quite aware of the question's double meaning.

"Soon enough Cap'n, soon enough. You'll be back in you're bonny lass's arms in due time." he chortled, clapping his captain heartily on the back. Arthur grinned sheepishly, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

"right then, I'll leave it to you." He mumbled, and turned towards his cabin. Suddenly he stopped, and turned back around, a worried frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. "I do hope she's still waiting for me," he said softly. Jacobsen chuckled,

"I'm sure she is Cap'n. Ain't no other lass had as much love in 'er gaze as she did on that day when you parted ways 5 years ago. Why, I reckon she's there now, standing on that same beach, dreamin' of the day 'er Cap'n comes to sweep 'er off 'er feet!" his chuckle deepened into a hardy laugh. Arthur couldn't help but laugh as well, though secretly he hoped that Jacobsen was right.


Their boat finally reached the docks around mid-afternoon, when the sun was at its highest point in the sky. Seagulls cried overhead, lured by the strong smell of fresh fish. The pier was as busy as usual, crowded with fisherman, merchants, townsfolk and the occasional soldier. Arthur smiled, feeling almost nostalgic; around him, his crewmates were doing the same. Finally he turned to them,

"Gentlemen, as your captain and your shipmate, I am pleased to say that it has been an honor sailing with you all! It's been a long, arduous five years, and-" he didn't get to finish before he was suddenly cut off by a round of laughter,

"Oh come off it Cap'n! We all know what you're tryin' t'do! Just go find the lass already!" cried one of his crewmates. The others sent up whistles and catcalls, but Arthur was not upset. Instead, he laughed and waved farewell, calling out,

"We'll meet again at Locksley's Pub tonight, all drinks are on me!" this earned him a loud cheer. Not wanting to spare a minute he began weaving through the crowd, avoiding soldiers and fish carts until he was safely out on the street. From there he started up the lane, whistling a cheerful tune as he made his way up the hill. There, on the very top he knew, sat the home of his fair lady. As he expected, the house was just as he remembered it. A small house, bordered on all sides by a beautiful flower garden. Ivy climbed sleepily up the walls, and smoke drifted lazily from the chimney, giving it the look of a fairytale cottage. It was just the kind of house (Name) would live in, though it in no way compared to her own beauty. Suddenly conscious of his own appearance, he glanced down at his dinghy red coat, worn, torn and somewhat stained from life at sea. Though he knew (Name) would not care either way how he looked, he still took a moment to properly dust himself off before pushing through the little wooden gate, and crossing the path to the front door. There, he knocked lightly on the door, and waited. When there was no answer, he knocked again, and waited; still no answer. He felt a sliver of worry creep into his heart, but he quelled it instantly, accusing himself of being silly. He knocked a third time; when there was no answer yet again, he tried the door knob. It turned easily, opening into a little kitchen. Silently apologizing for his rude entry – he may have been a pirate but he was still a gentleman! – He stepped into the kitchen and closed the door.
The room was quiet, except for the sound of a pot bubbling over the fire. A delicious aroma wafted around the kitchen, causing his mouth water. Carefully he looked into the pot, where a light stew was cooking. He closed his eyes, remembering the taste of (Name)'s cooking, his own cooking was never very appetizing, so he had quite a few memories of the many delicious meal's he and (Name) had shared. Suddenly his thoughts were interrupted by a sound coming from somewhere else in the house. His eyes snapped open as he looked warily around. He followed the sound towards the back of the house, where the bedrooms were. Two doors stood open, one being the wash room, and the other a guest room; the third was closed. Softly, he turned the knob of the third room, and opened the door just a crack. His eye travelled around the room, until they froze on a very unsettling sight. Without thinking, he suddenly threw open the door, ignorant of the loud bang it made as it hit the wall. Two pairs of eyes suddenly turned in his direction, the clear (Color) eyes of his one and only love, (Name), and the bright, mischievous blue eyes of Francis Bonnefoy – a soldier in the Royal Navy – who had her pinned against the bed….