Pirate
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with it. I also don't own Living With Danger. Those delightful stories belong to J.K. Rowling and Anne Walsh. Sorry. If you don't understand what these stories have to do with either of those things – then sorry. They were inspired by a post on the Living With Danger Yahoo! Group. That being said… Happy Birthday Hermione! And have a great Talk like a pirate day!
Two men stood , leaning against the fence that separated their two properties. Neither spoke a word as they gazed over the cliffs that formed a natural fence between their lands and the sea below. The setting sun blazed red as it slowly began to sink beneath the horizon. The only sounds were the twittering of crickets and the steady lap of waves echoing up the cliffs. The men were plain looking. They had faces lined from worries and laughter over the years, and both wore the simple clothing of peasants.
One man spoke. "Hear Ol' Ben boys saw a ship in the Marauders Cove this morning."
"Yep." The second man replied, eyes scanning the sea below. The first man lifted a hand to rub at his neck. "Hear it was flying black flags. Seemed to be in some kind of hurry." The first man continued.
"Yep." The second man agreed.
"Who do you reckon it was?" the first man asked. The second man glanced at his friend across the fence. "You're a bit thick if you can't guess who that might have been."
The Dine Again Inn was more full than usual this night. People from all over the region had come to hear the latest gossip. Several children sat, uninterested in gossip, in a corner of the inn. They were waiting for the storyteller. He often came to the inn in the evenings and would tell a story or two to the children there. The storyteller came to the door, and paused on the threshold of the inn. He smiled at those there – he'd known almost all as children for he was the oldest man in the village. He ambled over to a chair in the corner the children waited in, and sat down. Sitting, his long white beard reached almost to the floor. The children fidgeted eagerly. The storyteller leaned forward, eyes twinkling at the children. "Who would like a story?" He asked the same question every night. "Me! Me!" The children's voices climbed over each other in their enthusiasm. "Alright, Alright." He laughed, quietly. He sat back in chair, and scratched his chin, considering. "I will tell you a story of the courageous pirate Neenie." He said to the children. He cleared his throat, then began.
No one knows where she came from. She appeared on the seas one evening a few years ago. Her ship is beautiful. One doesn't see the like these days, and one wonders where she came by it. She's a bit of a gentleman, er… gentlewoman pirate and she flies a black flag so as to give those merchants she runs down a fair chance to get away. She roams the seas preying on merchants and other pirates. Survivors of her attacks say she's a pretty woman, with hair as wild as the sea. Others say the sea would be easier to tame than The Cat. That's what they call her now. The Cat. Supposedly for her balance walking the ropes and beams of the ships, and for her temperament. They say she's right dangerous when she's angry. For all she's been seen around the seas, no one knows much about her…
The Storyteller smiled at the children. "No one knows where she comes from or why she turned to piracy. Maybe you'll be the one to find out."
On the red-tinged seas, a ship sailed quietly through the morning fog. The sun still touched the line where sea met air, reluctant to leave it's resting place. Waves gently hit the ship as it sailed past a little village where children slept and dreamed of pirates.