A Pirate's Life for me
Orphaned at the age of six, Amber has been brought up by a distant relative in Tortuga. Amber is unlike every other woman there. For one thing, she thinks Pirates are cheating scum…
This is yet another one of my FF from my former accounts that I can't remember the password for, so I have decided to try and complete it/ hopefully improve it. I was a bit nervous about initially attempting to do a PotC fanfic, as I had always loved the film but wasn't sure how to approach writing one. This one is a bit more Mary-Sue-ish than I would normally write, but there will be a plot and will be less Mary Sue-ish as the story goes on. I advise you to bare with it! Haha.
Please R&R. Constructive criticism is welcome.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, unfortunately.
Chapter 1
The early morning breeze swept along the ocean causing small waves to stir and gently lap against the shore. True, it was chilly but Amber didn't mind the cold, she was used to it.
She sat on the soft sand, wrapped tightly in a green blanket, her back pressed against the rock that she was leaning on. It wasn't really that comfy but Amber didn't seem to notice. She was used to being uncomfortable. Sleeping on an itchy, straw bed for 22 years had made her used to it.
A small, grey coloured cat, sat curled up on her lap, purring softly in his sleep. She stroked him tenderly as she stared out at the calm ocean which almost seemed to match the sky, it was that blue.
Amber's wave of dishevelled curls cascaded down past her shoulders- her hair was always messy and windswept. Her face was small. It was so pale that her bright green eyes stood out tremendously. Her figure was very petite, probably caused by lack of food, but the landlord was to blame for that. This caused her to look half her age, and so vulnerable. But Amber wasn't vulnerable, you couldn't afford to be, living in Tortuga. Amber was a very strong- willed, independent person. She had made herself that way growing up. She had learnt that the best way to get by is to be as stony and cold as possible to other people, so they wouldn't realise how much she was actually pleading for help underneath it all. It was also to prevent them from taking advantage of her. She was determined not to come across as just a whore from Tortuga.
In fact, she had never been with a man- ever. She had promised herself she wouldn't get caught up with the evil, lousy pirates who inhabited Tortuga. She hated them. They were all pathetic drunks and womanisers. She had never let one get close to her and she had never been so much as friendly to one.
At 28, everyone would say she should have been married off by now. Amber knew she would never marry, especially if the only men she would meet are pirates or just plain scum. They repulsed her. As far as she was concerned, they were stupid drunkards and thieves. Always rioting, always stealing, always cheating. She didn't dare risk going with one, she didn't want her heart broken, like she had seen happen to many women in Tortuga.
As Amber sat, deep in thought, she couldn't help but notice how very peaceful it was. Peacefulness was very rare in Tortuga. Early morning at the sea shore was the only time and place you would get peace and quiet. At this time, almost all of Tortuga's residents are sleeping after a hectic night of drinking and fighting.
This was the only time Amber could get away from work so she could sit and think about things without noisy interruptions. It was the only place she could be where she could pretend she was somewhere else.
Somewhere far away from Tortuga...
Sometimes she'd think about her parents, although she could barely remember them. She was six when they died. They were both killed by pirates who had looted their home. Perhaps that was why she hated pirates so much. They had caused her to leave a life of happiness and come and live here with a distant relative who was the landlord of one of the local taverns.
She hated the landlord. He had mistreated her for as long as she could remember. He had treated her as he would a servant. She had worked as a barmaid in his tavern for as long as she could remember and she slept down in the cellar on a bed of straw and a few blankets.
Her only company was her pet cat, Smoky, who she had found wondering the streets a couple of years back. It was raining and the poor thing looked so scraggy and frail she had decided to take it in, much to the landlord's displeasure. The only way she had been allowed to keep Smoky was because she had convinced the landlord that he would keep the mice down in the cellar.
Amber noticed some old ladies, who had just come onto the beach, set up their wooden tables full of jewellery, materials and stuff that pirates had brought back from their travels. Most of it was cheap, useless junk. Amber nudged Smoky ever so slightly. He opened one eye and peered up at her, lazily.
"C'mon Smoky," Amber spoke to the cat, "I best purchase some material to finish my dress before we have to go to work,"
Amber made her own clothes. The landlord had never provided any for her and she had always used the little money she earned to buy material from the old lady's stalls so she could sew her own. She was gifted at making clothes and she rather enjoyed it. She was working on a new dress recently, a red, white and emerald green one. Her dresses were quite elaborate styles. They were like no other dresses any of the other women in Tortuga wore. For one thing, they weren't quite as revealing, for another, they could be described almost as witch- like, because Amber would often decorate them with beads and accessories.
Smoky yawned and stretched his claws out. Amber sighed and shoved the fat lump of a cat off of her lap. She patted him on the head before pulling the blanket off of herself. She stood up uneasily from sitting down for so long. She smoothed down the charcoal- black dress she was wearing- another one of her creations.
It was a very beautiful dress and it matched her hair perfectly. It had long sleeves which draped her hands and it had glistening silver thread running through it. She had made it look even more mystical and beautiful by decorating it with black and silver beads and necklaces with skulls she had bought from a nearby stall. She also wore a chunky, beaded necklace which had a green stone dangling off the end of it. Her wrists were wrapped with beads, ribbons and bangles and she wore belts of feathers and beads around her waist.
Amber ran a hand through her wild nest of hair and began to walk towards the stalls, folding the blanket up and tucking it under her arm as she went. "Smoky!" She called as she clicked her fingers together which made some bangles on her wrist clank against one another. Smoky looked up and began to follow her.
The tavern was already full of noise and commotion when Amber arrived to start her shift. Her newly brought materials tucked under her arm, she attempted to make it past all the rowdy fights and drunken louts, without getting knocked over or grabbed. Smoky stayed close to her ankles which made it almost impossible to walk.
She felt someone grab onto her dress. She swung around violently and saw that it was some smelly drunk. He looked new in this area, most men knew not to mess with Amber.
"Give us a kiss," the drunk slurred, his rum intoxicated breath making Amber gag.
Amber rolled her eyes and said, "Let me think…eh…no!" and with that she hit him over the head with a nearby bottle. He staggered and fell bac wards, immediately snoring in alcohol- fuelled slumber.
Amber finally managed to make her way behind bar. Not that it was much safer there. People where trying to get free rum yet again and the workers at the bar were finding it difficult to fend them off. Amber sighed dismally and made her way to the cellar so she could put her material away.
Amber put her materials in a small wooden crate beside her straw bed. She dreaded going back out to the bar. She hated working there, she hated living in the cellar, she hated the landlord. She felt as though she hated everything about her life and she longed to escape, to get away from it all. She just didn't know where to go, everywhere in Tortuga is the same, it seemed impossible to get away from that style of life. She had spent all her life living like this, she didn't know any other way.
Amber returned to the bar and tried to gain some order. Gaining order in the bar was like fighting a losing battle. It was an impossible task and Amber knew the best she could do was try and serve drinks and collect empty glasses without getting squished beneath a rowdy bust- up or getting harassed by a drunken lout. Easier said than done, of course.
Amber set straight to work, trying her hardest to block the noise out so she could actually concentrate. She began collecting the empty glasses on a nearby table when she felt a rough hand grab her slender wrist.
Amber sighed in deeply, thinking that the guy who had tried to kiss her before was attempting to do so again. She was all ready to turn around and take a swing at him when she noticed the hand belonged to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow who was standing beside her. She had heard so many stories about him from the other pirates talking about it in the tavern.
She noticed Jack hadn't changed from the last time he had been in Tortuga. Still, he had the same staggering, uneasy pose as though he was consistently drunk (which he probably was). He had the same wild mane of black hair threaded with beads, the same hat perched on his head, the same brown, kohl- rimmed eyes, the same smug smirk on his face.
She even noticed as he spoke that he had the same slightly slurred speech, "Amber, Amber…that is your name isn't it, luv?"
"Might be, Why do ya want to know?" Amber said dully, trying to pull her wrist from his grasp. She knew what he was going to say next. He asked her every time.
"Hey Amber, How about ya come and sit down with us and have a couple of drinks," he said, gesturing towards the table.
"Captain Jack Sparrow…you ask me that every time, you should know the answer by now," Amber said, rolling her eyes at him.
"But it doesn't hurt in trying," he grinned at her as he said this, showing a row of gold teeth.
Amber stomped down hard onto Jack's foot. He leapt back and let go of her in surprise.
"Perhaps it does," she said, smiling slightly as she watched him wincing in pain, "Go and ask one of the brothel girls for company next time, Jack."
She began to walk away and as she did so she said, "And do you really think I'm going to have a drink with a man who can't even remember my name?"
Amber had to work long hours in the tavern, with few breaks. It was difficult work. Most of the other employees managed to get by with a little help from drink. Amber forced herself to suffer through it all stone cold sober. She'd seen drink destroy people, she didn't want that to happen to her.
It was growing dark and the tavern was even more rowdier than it was that morning, if that was at all possible. What made matters worse was that the brothel girls had started work, so they were parading in the tavern, looking for punters and causing fights between the men.
Loud commotion suddenly erupted behind the bar. Amber scurried over to see what was going on. A burly man was attempting to steal a whole barrel of rum. He had violently knocked a barmaid over in his hurry to grab it off of her. He began to run out of the bar, the barrel clutched in his muscular arms.
"What are you staring at, Amber, Go after him!" the landlord's angry voice startled Amber slightly.
"What? Why me?" Amber said, looking round at the grumpy, plump landlord behind her.
"Because I say so," the landlord growled, pushing her forwards, "Go on, get after him!"
Amber stared at the landlord in disbelief before running out of the pub, after the rum- thief. He hadn't got very far, he was just standing in the cobbled street, trying to open the barrel.
"Oi, Thief, that is our rum!" Amber yelled at him, grabbing the barrel and attempting to pull it towards herself.
"My rum now," the man said, pulling the barrel back with so much force that Amber almost fell over, "Finder's keepers, missy,"
Amber refused to let go of the barrel which seemed to make the rum- thief even more angry. "You're that witch- girl aren't ye?" the man said, still with a firm grip on the barrel, " The one who hates all men."
"I don't care much for rumours going around about me," Amber replied, still refusing to let go of the barrel. True, she had heard what people call her, but she chose to ignore it.
The man pulled the barrel upwards, forcing Amber to let go. The barrel slipped from the man's arms and bashed against a nearby wagon causing the barrel to explode and send a river of rum streaming through the cobbles. Immediately, alcoholics who had run out of money, came hoarding over to drink as much rum as possible. Even off of the dirty ground.
The rum- thief turned to face Amber. His face distorted in anger. Amber glared back at him, her eyes blazing.
"Ye have to pay for that," Amber said, humouring him slightly. She knew that because he had stolen the rum in the first place there was no way he was going to pay for it.
The man did not reply, just advanced on her menacingly. Amber stood her ground. Her hand clutched a small dagger hidden in her dress.
He grabbed her around the waist and tried to pull her close to him, "Rum was going to be me pleasure tonight, I suppose I'll have to find a new way of amusing meself,"
Amber struggled to pull away as he pushed her face near his. She managed to kick him hard in the shin but this didn't have much effect on the man, just made him even more angry. He pulled at the front of her dress and a loud ripping sound could be heard. Amber knew he had ripped her dress. She looked down and saw that her undergarments were slightly on show. She tried to cover it but the man just pulled her arms away. Amber felt anger well up inside of her. It had taken her months to get this beautiful dress just right, and now it was torn.
She reached for the dagger and was just about to pull it out when she noticed the man had stopped pulling her closer to him. Instead, he just stood there, frozen to the spot. Amber stopped struggling and looked at the man in confusion for a couple of seconds, then she noticed that he had a cold sword pressed against his neck.
The man started whimpering slightly. Amber pulled away from him and pulled her dress up to cover the part of her undergarments which was visible. She looked behind the rum-thief to see who the sword belonged to.
It was non other than Captain Jack Sparrow.
Thanks for reading. I'd really appreciate some reviews to tell me how I've done.