This is a Hort x Beatrix story, read at your own discretion. Any ship hate will not be tolerated.

When he first saw her, Hort was twelve. He still remembered it.

He had been by the port in Jaunt Jolie. His dad's crew had decided to stop before setting sail onto their new destination. Many crewmembers had decided to go to taverns, but Hort had stayed at the harbor, looking at all the merchants and sellers.

Hort had walked down the streets, looking at the busy port city, while sellers yelled out products and people hurried to get a hold of them.

He could tell it was a marketplace for middleclass people, maybe some upper class people also came, but he wasn't sure. In his experience, those folks avoided places like these.

And that's when he caught a sight of her.

She wore an irritated expression, while her light blue dress was impeccable. Her golden curls flowed freely, but she impatiently tapped her foot. A man was by her side, probably in his 30's, but Hort didn't know if that could be her father, or maybe a guard.

The girl looked like she definitely belonged to royalty. She was out of place: overdressed, too vibrant, too pretty, too classy to match the atmosphere of the port.

Maybe he stared at her too much, because her blue eyes fell on him.

But she grimaced in disgust at his sight.

Hort sighed, but knew he should have expected that reaction.

His dad's crew had traveled all around the world for the year. They had even stopped at Bloodbrook for a night. A short stay was key if they didn't want to be found and turned in to the authorities, even though Bloodbrook was full of pirates.

They had been stationed at Gavaldon for a few months: a small towm, far away from ports. The perfect place for a hideout. They had nearly been captured when they had been at Foxwood, so they ran away to the closest, most innocuous town they could find.

And that was where Hort got his first crush. It hurt like hell.

Her name was Sophie, and saying she was beautiful would be an understatement. But she had rejected him over and over. As if she could never imagine herself with someone like Hort.

A part of him didn't blame her: he was just a pirate's son with no class. On the other hand, Hort couldn't see what he had done wrong. He had been te nicest to her, he had given her the prettiest flowers he had found, (even if they were stolen), and he had even snuck a necklace from his father's treasury. But he was met with rejection every time, unlike the gifts he gave her, that earned her approval.

Hort wanted to stop crushing on her, but Sophie wouldn't leave his thoughts.

"Girls like me don't go for guys like you" She had said. Anger and hurt flowed through Hort's veins, but his aching heart soon overwhelmed him.

He had never been happier than when his dad announced they were leaving.

Hort wished he could be like his dad: just concerned with himself and his treasure.

When he was fourteen, his dad was executed, along with seven crewmembers. All on the charge of piracy. Hort had been too late, and he had seen it all. He didn't want to ever witness another execution in his life.

He hid in the woods, while all the crew members remained at the courtyard. Hort tried to restrain himself, but he gave up, and sobbed freely, in the quietude of the forest.

Hort escaped his dad's fate, but sometimes he wished they had shared it. The remaining crewmembers had different plans: some left for the Whispering Mountains, while some stayed in Pasha Dunes.

Hort decided to board a ship to Ooty: a land he had never been to. Staying in Pasha Dunes would be too painful for him. He never wanted to go back to Pasha Dunes. It would forever bring him terrible memories.

At Ooty, he had been an errand boy for his dad's former shipmate. He had scrubbed tavern floors, washed bathrooms and needed to withstand public humiliation from the customers.

During the late evenings, he would lay awake in his cot at his ship, thinking of escaping. Stealing a ship and just sailing somewhere else.

He swore he would be a pirate like his dad. He swore he would be better, and that he wouldn't be finished off like his dad had. He would raid ships and get a buf fortune, so he could live off it for years to come.

A few weeks later, he had a good amount of money in his hands. At least he got some good payment at the tavern, at least for an errand boy. He combined it with the leftovers of his stack his dad had secured for him.

It wasn't the greatest sum of money, but it was something. Him and the former crewmember departed from Ooty, but Hort didn't know where they were headed to.

"Where are you taking us?" Hort asked, looking over at the sea.

"Avonlea. We'll stay there for a few months. Apparently they need more people to work their taverns…"

Well, at least they would have some money coming in.

Avonlea had been a paradisiac location compared to Ooty: Hort had only served tables and cleaned tables. It wasn't as demanding as he thought it would be.

They had gotten a shack and simply used their ship for sale purposes. It seemed life was getting a little better.

One day, as Hort had been in the city's downtown, he had seen a group pf girls around his age. They all walked quickly and chattered excitedly. Hort blushed at the sight.

They were all very pretty. He looked at his reflection on a puddle and fixed his hair and his shirt. He mustered up the courage to talk to them.

They all just stared at him and laughed. Well, almost all of them. One of the girls just stared at him in confusion, as if it was ridiculous for him to talk to them. She then laughed. Hort felt as if he had seen her before, with her long, blonde hair, and her crystal blue eyes.

Of course! The girl from Jaunt Jolie, from three years prior. Hort wondered how she had gotten here, but ignored that.

He was tired of girls laughing at him, taking him for granted, just because of the way he looked. He looked at his reflection in the pawn: scrawny and lanky was all he saw.

There were a lot of aspects of his life he couldn't change, but he was determined to change his exterior.

He was determined to like what he saw in his reflection.

Hort was sixteen, and he had found himself in Jaunt Jolie. It was the perfect coastal kingdom, except for the pirate raids, but it was good for commercial activity.

He didn't have the resources for becoming a pirate, so he needed to settle for living as a merchant in the city's port. It was still a little bit dull, compared to the majestic city where it was situated, at least. His day consisted of loading and unloading ships, carrying boxes from one place to another, and keeping track of orders.

It was exhausting, but Hort made good money and had a decent life. Not that being sixteen and an orphan was ideal, but he realized he needed to settle.

It was a chilly autumn evening, and he had headed to small restaurant by the city's downtown. It was like a cottage, but bigger. Candlelight could be seen from the windows, and red walls made up its facade. Apparently, it wasn't the simple place he'd thought it was, because he saw people arriving in ornate carriages, dressed in adorned gowns and majestic hairstyles.

He heard a dry laugh next to him, and he faced the person: a dark skinned boy, just around his age.

"Fooled you too, didn't it? That place is only for the highest classes: nobles, priests, and royalty. It makes no sense as to why is in the middle of town, where folks like us see it." Hort nodded.

"That's dumb. They should just hide it from the common people." Hort said,

"They should, but they like to show off. I'm Ravan, who are you?" He introduced himself.

"I'm Hort." He said, feeling a bit awkward.

"I know a place where they have some good food, wanna come?" Ravan asked. Hort nodded quickly.

"I take it is a place for…not rich people, basically." Hort said, and Ravan nodded.

"Yeah, is only like 20 minutes away. Are you up to it?" Ravan asked.

"You got me." Hort grinned, and Ravan returned the gesture. They walked down a darkened street, where few people could be seen.

Ravan stopped at a dilapidated pub, and Hort, not being the person to judge, simply followed him. Round tables were spread around the local, while people merrily and drunkenly sang. There was a bar, and some people sat by it.

Ravan invited him over to the bar, and Hort sat by him. Apparently, Ravan worked here, because after briefly talking, he went behind the bar and got him a glass of water, at Hort's request.

"Nothing too strong for you, I see?" Ravan teased.

"I would rather not; I have work tomorrow." Hort explained, and Ravan merely nodded.

As Hort looked around the place, he heard the door slam. Everyone turned to see the source of the noise: a hooded figure walked in, and Hort, judging from the dress underneath the hood. The dress had many ruffles, meaning the woman was probably of higher ranking. He silently wondered why she'd be there.

"Quite the scene." Hort muttered, but as he spoke those words. The hooded woman took a seat next to him, making him regret muttering those words.

Ravan quickly walked over to her, asking her if she wanted 'the usual'.

"Why else would I be here, Ravan?" She retorted.

"Fair enough." Ravan said, shrugging his shoulders. Hort saw him walk over to the other end of the bar, but kept wondering why the person next to him was disguised.

"You know, you could get me in a lot of trouble for doing this." Ravan said, as he slid her a cup filled with a pink liquid, with a little umbrella in it.

"People at the castle drink stuff worse than this. People my age." She took a sip out of it, and Hort had even more questions.

Castle? What was someone from royalty doing at a place like this? Hort couldn't see her face, even if she was sitting next to him, but he could see how her blond curls peaked from under the garment.

"Whatever you say, princess." Ravan said, then turned to Hort, "See, this is why bartending is fun; if you get lucky, you might meet the kingdom's princess." Hort widened his eyes, just as the girl pulled her hood tighter, and sat closer to the bar.

"You're not supposed to blow my cover like that! I tip you generously for this!" She snapped. Hort had heard of Princess Beatrix. Oh, he had heard all the stories of her striking beauty but haughty and proud demeanor. She was as beautiful as she was vain.

Hort often heard boys his age fantasize about her…and about her money. He had his reasons not to like pretty girls with rich fortunes.

"Oh come on, Hort's chill. He won't tell anyone, right?" Ravan teased.

"What am I to tell? That she comes to a bar below royalty standards?" Hort asked, furrowing his brows.

"That's exactly it." The princess turned and faced him, her eyes blazing. "That could ruin my reputation! They would peg me as an alcoholic that sleeps with good-for-nothings!"

"Hey, I won't tell." Hort said, holding up his hands. He had never seen the princess, after all, he had only been here for about a month. Seeing her now though, he could understand why everyone talked about her: she was gorgeous. But there was something about her that looked eerily…familiar. Especially in the way her eyes scrutinized him…

"You better not, or I'll put a bounty on your head that's worth more than this entire place." Beatrix threatened. Ravan sniggered.

"That's not too hard." Beatrix rolled her eyes. Hort mustered up the courage to face her again.

"So why do you come here?" Hort asked. Beatrix's annoyed glance bore into him.

Where had he seen her? He swore he knew those eyes…

And suddenly, it hit him.

The girl he had seen four years ago at the port. The girl who had seen him and laughed at him last year. He widened his eyes as she answered his question:

"Oh you know, just to escape my prissy p— what's wrong with you?" Beatrix asked him, eyeing him in the same way as she had the last two times he had seen her.

"N-nothing. Hey Ravan, just take this and keep the change. I'll see you around." Hort got up and left as quickly as he could.

He stood outside of the tavern, his chest pounding. The girl who he had seen twice before, and had stupidly admired her, had just turned out to be a princess. Hort wasn't too fond of her attitude, after all, she had looked down on him every time she had seen him.

"Man I really need to stop looking at blondes." Hort complained to himself.

"Well you shouldn't just run off and leave them midsentence; that could help you." He nearly jumped when he heard her voice. She stood with her arms crossed, glaring at him.

He should be the one glaring at her, not the other way around…but instead he sighed.

"I thought princess's manners including not eavesdropping on other people's misery." Hort retorted. Beatrix rolled her eyes.

"You obviously haven't heard the Ladies' Court…seriously though; I'm not used to people running off like that, what's your deal?"

Hort looked away from her, embarrassed. He didn't want her to mock him for a third time, but she stood expectantly.

"You remind me of someone…someone who didn't…you know what? This is not even your problem; have a good night, princess." He started walking away from her, but she followed him.

"So? Doesn't mean that I'm like them." Hort stopped in his tracks and faced Beatrix. She still looked at him…angrily and expectantly. He hesitated for a second. He would sound like a fool if he told her, so he decided not to.

"Look, if you want me to keep my mouth shut, I will. No need to follow me around." Hort said, trying to get her to stop. She pressed her lips and looked away.

"You better…Ravan is a good bartender, but I don't trust the company he keeps." Beatrix said airily. "So, Hort, right?"

"Yeah. Beatrix?" She nodded wordlessly. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

Beatrix's lips twitched into a smirk.

"Do you come here often?" She asked. Hort wondered why she kept talking to him, but he just replied.

"Eh, once a week. Depends on my job." Hort lied.

"You should come Thursdays more often. Ravan can't work and talk to me at the same time." Beatrix prompted, pushing a lock of hair out of her face. Hort looked surprised, and managed to utter:

"I'll try…"

"Actually, let's make that a royal order. Next Thursday at seven. Sharp." She pulled her hood tighter and turned around. Leaving Hort standing there like a fool.

How much alcohol was in her drink?

There was no way she remembered him, after all, she saw hundreds of people. A random boy would not stick in the back of her head.

Hello! So, I do realize that I probably owe you guys an explanation for running off and not updating The danger of safety….pretty much, I lost interest because I was so busy with school. I started writing a new chapter a while ago, but I don't know if I will publish it or no. Depends on how it goes.

Now, let's address the elephant in the room. A Hort x Beatrix fic. If you've read the Danger of Safety, you can probably conclude that I ship them. If you haven't read that, welcome aboard the S.S Hortrix! Why do I ship them? Dumb reason: in TLEA, in one line was mentioned that Bea flirted with Hort.

That's literally it. And here we are, years later. I do think they'd be interesting together because I feel like 1) Beatrix actually wants true love aka someone that loves her for who she is, and 2) I love EverxNever ships.

If you liked it, leave me a review!

Sofia