Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean
Summary: What's in a picture? Photo's may speak a thousand words, but drawings speak thousands from different worlds.
Originally Written: January 14th, 2007
What's In A Picture?
The bars of Tortuga were crowded as usual. It was loud and noisy, filled with hopelessly drunk people, and smelly. She couldn't stand it. Not that she could afford to live anywhere else. People just didn't pay for artists like they used to. Sketch book and charcoal sat unused on the table before her, taunting her. It was almost like it was saying, 'you'll get nothing here, why do you bother'.
She had every reason to listen to it too. Her family hated her for following her dreams and wouldn't even give her the time of day. She didn't have any lasting friends, unless two-time clients counted as friends. She was better off running to some rich person and begging for a job as a maid. But no, she was still determined. Maybe she would have more luck in Spain…
"Oie! Anybody in there?" Suddenly, the stench and noise of the bar hit her full force as someone waved a hand in front of her eyes. She looked up. A man with dark dread-locks, covered with a red bandanna and all sorts of odd beads and bones, who was dressed in the popular pirates fashion, was leaning over her with a smile on his face.
"Oh, sorry, I'm just a bit distracted."
"I can see that." He sat down across from her. "You…open for business?"
"Business? Oh! You mean drawing?" he nodded, still smiling in a deceiving way. "Yes, at all times. Can't afford to be otherwise."
"Jolly good." He said, pulling a few coins out of his pocket. Gold coins. She gaped. "Would that be enough to indulge in your humble services?"
"More than enough, sir. Much more than enough." She stood slowly as the man withdrew his hand and the coins. "Do you have any special scenery in mind, or do I get to be creative with this noisy background?"
"I have an idea for a…romantic setting." That smile was still in place as he stood and offered her his arm. It was starting to make her nervous, but she accepted the arm while snatching up her book and charcoal sticks. He somehow managed to get her out of the pub in one piece and retain her innocence. He led her through the non-sleeping streets of the pirate town, not saying anything. She kept sending him looks that hinted at her want of an explanation, but he only smiled. She frowned and stopped looking at him, trying to keep track of where she was so she could find her way back to her small inn room.
He led her out of the city and out onto the rocky beaches to a small stand of old, weathered trees beside a crumbling stone wall that was no more than two feet high. Here, he released her and sit on the wall and leaned his back against one of the old trees that had almost become one with the wall. She watched him for a moment. He looked like something out of a fairytale. Like one of the princes who wooed the lady with music by moonlight. Then he turned his head to look at her, only adding to the image.
Then he had to go and ruin it with his buccaneer's smile.
"Like what ye see, luv?"
"You look like something out of a storybook." She breathed quietly. The man chuckled in an intoxicating fashion.
"Do I?" he sat back in the position he had been in before. "Then draw it."
She didn't move for a moment and just watched him, then silently shook herself and sat on the ground. She flipped to a doodle-free page and started to sketch. She spent a good three hours sketching him, going through five pages of her excellent white paper in the process. She mad e sure she had drawn two copies of the man, so she could keep the moment with her forever.
It was a beautiful picture when she finished, though being the artist, she found plenty of things she wanted to change, but that was normal for any person of the trade. When the man noticed the extended period of quite, he looked over at her.
"Are ye finished, luv?"
She looked up in surprise. "What? Oh, yes, the sketch." He stood and swaggered over to her and squatted in front of her.
"Let's see." He gently pulled the book out of her hands and looked at the drawing. He smiled at it. "Not bad, my dear, not bad at all." Then he started to flip through the other pages, including the bad sketches of both him, and her other encounters. She never got rid of them, and always looked back on them, just to see if she could learn from her mistakes. She also had the good sketches of the things she had really liked, and the ones that her clients hadn't liked. He gave each its own expression, sometimes even laughing. She watched his face closely. Once again, he looked like something out of a story.
He looked up at her and gave her an odd look. It was a cross between complete happiness, disbelief, and regret. This confused her, but she didn't ask or say anything.
"You are very talented, luv." He said, handing her back the book. She smiled at him. No one ever said that to her. It was always an 'it'll do' or 'I've seen better'.
"Thanks. You have no idea what that means to me." She said quietly.
The man laughed and patted her head, making her tightly coiled and coiffed hair come out of place. "Ye deserve it, luv." She found the one of the pictures of him and carefully ripped it out of the book. She handed it to him.
"There, just like a prince in a book."
He took the page with hesitant fingers, as though afraid the paper would vanish if touched. She laughed lightly at his actions.
"Just like in a book." He said quietly, looking at the picture, then up at her. He smiled at her, but not in the lusty way he had before, he looked genuinely happy. He quickly pulled out the money he had shown her earlier and a little more. He handed it to her. As she took it, he encased her small fingers with his rough ones. She looked up at him in confusion. "Never let go of this talent, no matter what those politicians say about it. Dreams are best kept if followed."
He gave her one last smile, before standing quickly and striding away.
"Wait!" she called, causing him to stop and glance back. "What's your name?"
"Jack Sparrow."