My dearest James,
Thus had dozens of letters started, then continued on with as much as could be written on a page or two. Sometimes more. Filled with all sorts of things that were meant for only 'dearest James' to read, but surely were slipped into and read by various bored prison guards that were supposed to pass the letters along to their intended receiver. But every letter started and ended the same.
My dearest Jame,
etc. etc. etc.
All my love,
Each was written in a legible scrawl, with curves on letters that were meant to have them and every i and t cross or dotted appropriately. They came about once every two weeks, always on the same day. For about two years. Once or twice, the faithful chain was disrupted, but aside from these very rare occurrences, the letters came. But there had been nothing for the two months leading up to this day. And this was a very unique day indeed. For today, the king of England was to view a hanging.
Two years previous, almost to the day, James Thomas McLeod had been placed under arrest for his crimes against the crown. And this directly after discovering the Seven Cities of gold. When he by all rights should have been whittling away at his new found wealth, Lucky James was locked up and put on trial for his crimes against His Majesty. And now, after a lengthy process of law, his sentence was to be carried out. All of the king's favorite nobles had come to watch and applaud the removal of the villain from the world. In the middle of a spacious courtyard stood a lone scaffold, the twined rope dangling in the air in a most sinister manner. Standing on the finely crafted platform where the condemned would take his last view of the world was the dark hooded hangman. He was well built, clearly not the sort of being that any would be eager to meet in a dark alley.
Around the scaffold was a wide collection of nobility. Men with powdered wigs and gold lined apparel, their faces either carefully and cleanly shaven or sporting great curling beards. Each of their noses were upturned, as though they had transformed to such a state after years of practiced sneering. There were a few women present as well, with large skirts that took up about seventy five percent of their body mass. Their hair was piled up high on the tops of their heads, and they fanned their ivory skin with ornate folded papers and lace. Frail hands clutched at the corsets that pinched their waists, and a few of them giggled together at the bit of excitement they were being treated with this day.
Within the crowd, however, were a few oddities. A couple of the noble men were shorter than the rest, and with a peculiar curvature about their frames. One in particular had green eyes that looked as though they were meant to be glittering, but at the moment were hard and focused. The nobleman's white curls flowed about his small form, with a matching powdery beard falling nearly to his waist. When it was announced that the condemned was to be brought out, this nobleman looked up quickly, then back towards the hangman. His remarkably small and smooth, tan hand (bedecked with a single odd gold ring which sported what appeared to be a picture of a cat) clutched at the top of his ornate staff in a flood of nerves as the crowd parted to allow the guards through with the captured pirate. Looking away from the hangman and being careful not to look at the man to be hung, the nobleman glanced and nodded at a fellow nobleman, who was equally unusual in size and shape. Then, green eyes shifting once more, the noble shot a piercing stare at the shaded box that was held a story above the crowd of execution-goers. There, hidden away from reach and sight, was the figure of His Royal Highness. It might have been unusual for one of His Highness' loyal subjects to be shooting such a look in his direction...but before anyone could notice, the green eyed man looked away again, focusing once more on the scaffold.
The guards strode forward through the space in the crowd, guiding a man with dirty blond hair towards his fate.