Chapter Text
Before there was John Silver, there was a young boy named Jack Kelly. And before there was Jack Kelly, there was a girl named Lucy.
Lucy was a sweet girl: Kind. Young. Naive.
She was very small for an Ursid, standing at only six and a half feet tall. And she was beautiful; her brown eyes sparkled with sunlight when she laughed, and sparkled still with tears when she cried. Her long brown hair was normally worn up, but when it was loose it fell in a cascade down her back past her waist. Everyone marveled at her sweetness and her beauty. Everyone.
When Lucy was 19, her father died suddenly; no one really ever knew what the sickness was that killed him. But it left Lucy an orphan, as her mother had died when she was born. Lucy was alone in the world, and lonely, grieving people often make mistakes.
And Lucy’s big mistake was named Seamus Doyle.
The poor girl had never had to support herself on her own, and she had no idea what food or clothing cost. Her father had loved her, and out of love he had sheltered her from the harsh realities of the world. He had sheltered her from the realities of his abject poverty and the fact that he had nothing to leave her in the event of his death.
And those realities hit Lucy like a sack of bricks as she stood at the front of the line at the grocery shop after realizing that she did not have money to buy bread or milk or…anything, really.
“Please, I beg of you…my father just died and…I have nothing. The bank took our house so I have nowhere to go, and…I haven’t eaten in days and I’m so hungry. I…”
“If I do it for you, I have to just give away my wares to anyone. I’m sorry about your father, but I can’t help you.”
Lucy broke down in tears, and the shopkeeper pitied her. He really did. But there was nothing he could do.
After a few moments, a man standing behind the girl put his hand on her shoulder and she turned around. Her tearful eyes found themselves face to face with his chest, and she had to look up to see his face.
She perceived in her grieving mind that this man had an incredible kindness in his eyes, and she thought that he must be a good man.
“Why are you crying, beautiful?”
“My…my father just died and…and I have no one. And no job, no money, no anything…”
“Shh…a beautiful woman like you has no business crying like that over a thing like money.”
And with that, the man bought her food and spoke to her as they walked and she ate.
“My name is Seamus. What’s yours?”
“Lucy, sir. Thank you, Seamus. Thank you for your kindness to me.”
His “kindness” did not end there. He bought her gifts that day: new ribbons for her hair, a new dress, new shoes, and various sweets that Lucy had never tasted before. It was the best day of Lucy’s life. She’d never been given gifts like this before; her father couldn’t afford them. But Seamus could.
In the evening, Seamus took Lucy to an inn with her presents, and bought food, wine, and a room with a bed to sleep in.
He smiled at her as he had smiled at her all day, and in that smile she perceived that she saw tenderness. But there was no kindness behind Seamus’s eyes or tenderness behind his smile; there was only lust.
Unknown to Lucy, Seamus Doyle was not a good man. In fact, he was quite a despicable man who never gave anything away for free. And he saw her beauty and her grief, and he monopolized on it. He was a married man, but his wife was getting old and was pregnant again. And a man does have needs.
But he would never take a young woman’s virtue without giving her something in return. That would be rape, and Seamus had limits. No, he would pay for her virtue with gifts; he would feed her, he would treat her, and he would even dress her in clothes she could wear after he surely tore her ragged, dirty dress apart.
Lucy knew none of this, of course. If she had, she would have run far away from Seamus and from the tragedy he was soon to make of her life.
She had been so excited when he told her she would sleep in a bed tonight; since her father died and the bank took her house, Lucy had been sleeping on the street. And it was dangerous in the streets; a man could take advantage of a lonely young girl in those streets.
She allowed Seamus to escort her to her room. She allowed him to enter the room with her. She even allowed him to kiss her.
But when he started putting his tongue down her throat and carried her small frame to the bed, Lucy began to struggle. She did not allow this, and Seamus had not even asked permission.
Once she was on the bed, Seamus pulled away enough to start undoing his belt.
“Seamus…stop! Get off me!”
Her screams were so loud that Seamus worried that the patrons in adjacent rooms would hear her, so he covered her mouth with his hand while his other hand finished undoing his belt.
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth and you will be silent, ok? I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
He removed his hand and Lucy immediately began screaming:
“Help! Ra–”
He flipped her onto her stomach and pressed her face into the bed, smothering her cries and her breath. Quickly, he used his belt to hold her hands behind her back. He didn’t want it to be this way, but he wanted to enjoy this and she was putting up too much of a fight for his liking.
After finishing his task, he flipped her over on her back again, and she renewed her screams. He sneered at her and backhanded her with such force that she was silenced long enough for him to rip at her dress with both hands until he had ripped two pieces off of it. By the time he had the fabric in his hand, she was trying to scream again and he quickly put one piece of the fabric in her mouth while tying the other piece around her head to hold it in. When she was sufficiently restrained and gagged, he pulled away from her to admire his prize.
“I didn’t want to take you like this. But I paid you, didn’t I, whore? How dare you fight me! I wanted to be gentle and make you feel good, but you’ve pissed me off! Everything that comes next is your fault.”
She whimpered and tried desperately to struggle, but he was so much bigger than her, and she was restrained. Seamus smiled darkly in anticipation and climbed back on top of Lucy; now that she couldn’t fight him, he was able to take his time.
He bit at her neck, surely leaving marks and causing her to whimper in pain. When he moved to rip her dress from her body, he spoke lustful words to her.
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. It’s a shame for you not to use it. Your beauty is something you can sell, darling, and I get to be the first to buy and partake, huh?”
She cried hysterically behind her gag. This man she had thought was so kind and so good to her turned out to be a monster; and he was taking her virtue from her, and it was the only thing she had left in this world.
Seamus had an easy time ripping her dress from her body; the material was thin from heavy use, and the garment was cheaply made. The dress he bought her as a replacement was much nicer, so he had no qualms about destroying this one.
When her breasts were exposed to him, he took a moment to admire the beauty before him. She was so small compared to him, and his large hands completely engulfed her breasts as he palmed them and tweaked her nipples roughly between his fingers.
Barely able to contain his lust, he leaned down and took her breast in his mouth, biting down on the nipple until she shrieked behind her gag; he only responded by giving the other breast the same attention as he worked to remove his pants.
Frustrated, Seamus eventually had to pull away and put his entire focus on removing his pants, shirt, and finally his underwear. At the sight of his manhood in front of her, Lucy’s cries renewed. She had never even kissed a boy before, and this man was about to do so much more than that. He was going to ruin her.
“Alright, baby. Enough foreplay, huh? Time to get what I paid you for.”
Without another word he took the rest of her dress off her body, removed her shoes, and finally tore away her underclothes to leave her body naked and exposed and ready to be taken.
He felt between her folds, and she was dry. Perfect. He preferred them that way. But out of compassion for the little virgin, he spit into his hand and rubbed it along his member. That was the most he would do for her, and he wasted no more time before lining himself up and thrusting fully into her dry entrance.
Lucy had never known pain like this before, for it felt like she was being ripped apart. And Seamus didn’t care. He also didn’t care that he wasn’t using protection and that she could fall pregnant after his assault. None of that was his problem; it was hers.
It was a small mercy that Seamus didn’t last long, and expended himself within the span of two minutes. He collapsed on top of her for a long time, not caring that he was crushing her. He cared nothing for her, it was clear. And now that his lust was satisfied, he could go back home to his wife and children and continue on as if nothing happened. As long as the bitch kept quiet, that is.
Before he untied and ungagged her, Seamus spoke tenderly to her while kissing and caressing her breasts:
“Good girl. You were such a good girl. Well worth the money I paid for you…”
Lucy whimpered and continued to cry. Seamus lowered his voice to a whisper as he pulled away and began putting his clothes back on:
“Now, don’t tell anyone about this, darling. I’ll know if you do, and…I’ll make you regret it, yeah? And I don’t want to do something you’re going to regret. So…no talking to the police, ok? Because I paid you, whore, and you accepted my payment. Besides…” he smirked as he looked down on Lucy’s helpless, prostrate form, “...I’m buddies with the Chief. So it won’t do you any good anyway.”
When Lucy’s cries renewed yet again, Seamus collected his things and then turned her onto her stomach to release her hands. Before he did, though, he palmed her ass and kissed it, as if doing all he could to not let the night end. If he had the energy for it, he would have taken her again. But instead, he finally undid the belt that bound her hands and removed the gag that silenced her.
She was sobbing, and now that she was ungagged she choked and coughed, struggling to breathe through her panic and grief. Seamus almost lovingly petted her hair, and went to leave.
“S…sir…” she said weakly, “w..what do I do if…if I get pregnant?”
Seamus smirked at her, “Get rid of it. Abort it. Drown it. Burn it. Throw it from a cliff. I don’t care. But don’t come to me for help if you decide to keep it. I’ll make you regret that, too.”
With those parting words, Seamus left Lucy in that room with the same thing she had before she met him: nothing. Or so she hoped.
Lucy found out after a month or so that she was pregnant with Seamus’s baby, and she hated and resented the thing in her womb. She hadn’t the heart to abort it although she went to do it several times before turning back and deciding that instead she would give it up once it was born.
So broken was she after that horrible and traumatic night that she felt she had little capacity for love anymore. Who was there to love? Certainly not herself, the fool who let a man ruin her life in exchange for some food and a dress. Certainly not Seamus, the monster who knocked her up and then left her with nothing but a bastard child. And certainly not this baby, who only existed because she had been raped.
The birth of the child was even more painful than its conception, but thankfully not as traumatizing. It seemed eager to exit the womb, and she was only in labor for a couple of hours before she heard the baby cry and heard the midwife say “It’s a boy!”
Of course it was a boy. Probably exactly like his father. She went to tell the midwife that she didn’t want to see the baby and to take him away, but she couldn’t get the words out before the midwife placed the baby on her chest and Lucy couldn’t help but look at him.
Any hatred, resentment, or apathy she had felt toward the child melted away.
She always thought that babies were born with their eyes closed, but this boy had his eyes wide open and alert as he cried in the cold air. And his eyes were the same shade of brown as hers. Instinctively, she held the babe to her chest and covered him with the blanket that also covered her. And she cried. And she decided that she would keep him, for he was all she had. And she was all he had, too.
When she and her son were both spent from crying, the midwife helped her swaddle the child and hold him. She helped Lucy bring him to her breast so he could eat, and he gave them no trouble. He was a sweet baby, and just stared at his mother as she stared back. She’d never felt this kind of love before, and she knew that she would gladly die for her child.
“Hi, Jack,” she said tearfully as he gripped her finger in his tiny little hand.
She finally had something to live for, and she swore to keep her child safe and happy for the rest of her life.