A/N: First, I want to make it clear that I do not own any of the characters, plot ideas, etc. of Pirates Of the Caribbean. Pirates of the Caribbean is the sole property of Disney. This is something made purely for recreational enjoyment, and not for profit or profit-making purposes. The only thing I own in this story is my character, Scarlett. So please don't sue me Disney. Cheers! ~Cinnamonbear200
Finding my North
Chapter 1: In Which I Meet and Become a Crew Member of Jack Sparrow, and Giselle Disappears
My memory of Tortuga: The streets were filled with the sounds and smells of reeling drunks, alcohol, and vomit. And I was loving every minute of it. No, I was not drunk, and neither am I soft in the head. I'm just incredibly affectionate about the town that I was born and raised in. I was used to the catcalls, I knew how to defend myself, and I was an expert thief. Now, I know, you're probably thinking, "wow, she's soo irresponsible," and "Where are her parents?" Well, first off, my parents kind of abandoned me. ((I'm a big softie when it comes to death. I don't kill a character off unless I absolutely have to.)) I grew up in the streets, living off what I could get, and the aid of a woman named Giselle. She had no last name, and everyone simply called her Giselle, or whatever nickname they could think up. (I believe that one of these nicknames was "Salty Wench", if my memory serves me right.) My name is Scarlett Sparrow, but everyone just calls me Scarr, because of the fact that on all enemies I duel, I always manage to give them a scar of some sort on their face or left arm. It's always the left arm, never the right, oddly enough. But enough of that. Time to explain the what the heck I'm doing on the Black Pearl.
It all started one day, or one night, I should say, in Tortuga…..
I was dead tired from working overtime double shifts in the Faithful Bride, and I was ready to go home, get under the covers, and sleep for at least thirty years. My arms ached from carrying giant trays of drinks to and fro and from breaking up small fist fights before they became serious. My feet were giant pieces of lead that were attached to my legs, which felt like the muscles in them were melting with pain and tiredness. My eyes stung from the hazy clouds of smoke that were continuously floating around inside the bar, and my nose burned from the strong scent of alcohol and smoke. All in all, I was physically exhausted. When I finally dragged myself through the front door of Giselle's house where I lived in a room and helped her clean and cook, she was waiting with a warm meal and a hot water bottle.
"Thanks Giselle. You're a life-saver." I dragged the words out of my mouth, almost too tired to even finish the sentence.
"No problem Scarr. Rough night tonight, eh?" She asked, eyeing my bedraggled, half-concious form with concern. I knew I looked a right mess. My hair was mussed, my clothes were dirty, my eyes were red and there were giant, dark circles under my eyes the color of very purple grapes. I was slouching so much it looked like I was trying to keep my balance on some sort of invisible chair, and every other step or so, I stumbled and almost fell flat on my face. And I was starving.
"Definitely. Had to break up at least 15 different skirmishes, carried what felt like over a million trays of drinks that must have weighed at least five pounds each, dashed through countless smoke clouds, and, on several occasions, had to clean up puddles of-…" and I mimed being sick.
"Here, have your dinner, and then go on up and take a bath. I'll put the hot water bottle in bed for you." Giselle told me.
"Thanks Giselle." I mumbled through a mouthful of potatoes and chicken.
An hour later, I was ready for bed. I had scrubbed myself thoroughly, rinsed my mouth out with hot water, (to get rid of the awful metallic after-taste of blood, which was a result of my getting punched in the mouth trying to keep two pirates from fighting over a mug of beer), and climbed gratefully under my fluffy comforter. The minute my head hit the pillow, I fell deeply asleep.
I didn't wake up until late the next morning, to find out that I had the day off from work at the Faithful Bride on account of the owner of the bar was so impressed with the amount and quality of work I had done yesterday that he thought I deserved a break. This I learned via a note that Giselle had left on my bedside table, along with another note that explained that she wouldn't be home until very late that night, because she had some "business" to attend to at the docks. That, I guessed, meant one of her suitors had come back from a trip, and while he'd been gone, she'd found out that he hadn't been entirely faithful to her, which would probably earn him [the suitor] a resounding slap from her [Giselle].
I decided to fix myself some porridge for breakfast, and after I had eaten, I went back upstairs, got dressed in a dress that Giselle had sewn for me, and decided to purchase some ingredients for dinner at the market. Since Giselle had made dinner for me the night before, I owed her one. I decided that I would make lobster omelets for dinner, with more mashed potatoes. The omelets weren't too terribly difficult, and they were one of the things I could cook well without the risk of burning the house down with a freak fire from the stove. With that decided, I set off purposefully for the market, my giant basket swinging from my arm. As I was passing the docks, I spotted Giselle, sitting on some crates, staring out at the sea, her chin in her hand. I decided to ask her if she was alright with lobster omelets for dinner, and approached her.
"Giselle! GISELLE!" I yelled. She turned her head and waved at me.
"Hello Scarr. What are you doing here?" She asked me.
"I was on my way to market to get some things for dinner. I wanted to ask if you were alright with lobster omelets for dinner with mashed potatoes."
"That sounds lovely. Thank you Scarr."
"You're welcome."
I was exceedingly curious about who Giselle's ill fated suitor could be this time, and so, I asked.
"Have you ever heard of Jack Sparrow, Scarr?" she asked.
"I've heard some stories about him, yes. But what does he have to do with anything?" I inquired.
"He's my ill fated suitor." came her cheerful reply.
"Oh dear. He's in for an earful, isn't he?" I grinned.
"Most certainly." She grinned back at me.
"Now hurry off to market! Those lobsters don't last for long!" She smiled, and gave me a playful shove to send me on my way.
"See you later Giselle!" I called back over my shoulder.
Little did I know, as I made my way to market, that Giselle's Jack Sparrow would be the person to change my life, completely.
Later in the afternoon, after I had finished preparing the omelets and potatoes, I decided to take a walk, and talk with Giselle for a bit, while she waited for the ship to bring Jack Sparrow in to port. I put a light shawl on, as it was getting chilly and a bit breezy outside, and set off for the docks.
"Hi Giselle." I said.
"Hey Scarr." She replied in a distracted tone.
"Thought I'd come and sit with you a bit while you were waiting." I told her.
"Thanks Scarr. I've been bored out of my mind all afternoon, waiting. It gets tiresome to stare at the sea after a while." She sighed.
Well, we sat there, and we waited. And waited. And waited. As the moon, huge and luminous began to rise, and the stars, twinkling diamonds in a setting of inky, blue-black velvet, began to twinkle with a cold white light, a large, yellow and navy blue ship came into port. Painted in curling black letters was the Name the H.S.S. Interceptor. I stared as a very odd looking man came into view, followed by a man with brown hair that was tied back in a small ponytail.
The odd man was dressed in a long, puffy sleeved white cotton shirt that had turned a faded light yellow with staining and age. He wore, over that, a brown vest made of what looked like leather, with an intricately decorated leather strap with a silver buckle on it which carried his sword in its sheath, and a very fancy looking pistol. His hair fell to his shoulders in a thick tangle of oily looking dreadlocks, with beads and some silver coins dangling in front to the right of his face. His beard had been braided into two parts, on one of which there dangled little beads and baubles. His eyes were rimmed in black kohl, and he had a flat, slanted moustache. He had numerous gold teeth, and wore a long, heavy cuffed dark black coat. His face was angular, and his cheeks were rather hollow. On his head, there was a red bandanna that he wore as a sort of headband, with impercebtible designs on it, and over that, he wore a beat up looking leather, tricorn hat with the brim stictched tightly to the crown of the hat, with a single, small X stitch on each side, in a string that almost perfectly matched the color of his hat.
The man with the ponytail was dressed in a shirt similar to the odd man's, except that it looked cleaner and newer than the other's, brown cloth breeches, an apron/vest sort of thing that looked to be made of leather, and stockings that had probably once been white, but had turned a grayish sort of off white color with dirt and usage. His shoes were plain, with buckles on the front. His face was thin, but not as thin as the odd man's. His eyes were rather large and brown, and he had the light beginnings of a mustache and stubble on his chin. He had a pensive, worried look on his face. He also had a sword, strapped in a sheath on a belt around his waist.
The odd man began to approach Giselle, with the second man in tow.
"Giselle-" The odd man began, but Giselle slapped him, hard. Ah, so this was the infamous Jack Sparrow. His voice was low and rather gravelly, and he smelled like sweat, salt, rum, and something else I couldn't quite name. Something tropical. But he mostly smelled of sweat and rum. I glared at him, giving him my best you-should-know-why-we're-mad-at-you look.
"And who is this pretty little lass?" Sparrow inquired, bending down to look at me. His breath smelled absolutely vile. I glared at him, stuck my tongue out, and slapped him as hard as I could. He swore, straightened up, and turned back to Giselle. She slapped him again before he even had time to open his mouth.
His head being swung back towards the man behind him from the force of Giselle's second slap, he muttered to the man, "I may have deserved that."
"Yes, you did!" I shrieked at him.
"You were unfaithful, Jack Sparrow!" Giselle yelled.
And with that, we both turned on our heels, and stalked off, both of our skirts swishing around us. When we got to a dark alley where we were sure no one would hear or see us, we both broke down in hysterical giggles.
"That-was-wonderful Scarr!" Giselle gasped, holding her sides as she shook with laughter.
"You did well too!" I exclaimed, grinning uncontrollably.
"Come on, let's go home and eat. I'm starved!" Giselle smiled.
And with that, we both turned and headed home, arm in arm.
When I woke up the next morning, I expected to see Giselle sound asleep in the bed next to mine, but the bed was empty. Groggily, I shrugged my shoulders, arriving at the conclusion that she must be downstairs, making breakfast. It was a Saturday, and she didn't usually work on Saturdays. Normally, we'd have hotcakes for breakfast, with honey, and then we'd go out and amuse ourselves on the beach, shell collecting, playing in the water, etc. So I dressed in breeches, a cotton shirt, boots, my hat, and a belt. I spied my sword and gun on the dresser, and attached them to my belt. I had a feeling I was going to need them in the near future. As I walked out of the room and down the stairs, I listened intently for any sound of life; Giselle humming, the clatter of pots and pans as she mixed batter, anything. After a few minutes, I realized the only sound was my breathing and the wild beating of my heart thundering in my ears. I took a deep breath, tiptoed down the rest of the stairs, and opened the kitchen door just a crack. No Giselle. The pots and pans were all in order, and the kitchen looked just as it had last night. In fact, our dinner plates were still on the table. We had both been exhausted from laughing so hard, and had decided to clean the kitchen in the morning. I decided to check the bedroom again, to see if I had overlooked some note she might have left for me, explaining her absence.
When I reached the bedroom, I noticed something seemed to be amiss with Giselle's bed. I took a closer look at it, and the realization hit me like a fist in the gut. The bed hadn't been slept in. It was still neatly made, with no sign of someone having sat on it or anything. There was no note on the bedside table, or anywhere in the house, for that matter. By that time, it had begun to sink in. Giselle was missing.
My brain jumped to the conclusion that she had probably been taken prisoner by Jack Sparrow, because he was angry with her for slapping him and calling him unfaithful. I grit my teeth, and strode out of the house to find him.
When I reached the docks, I spotted him. He was walking down a row of people, asking some of them questions. One of them had a hat pulled down over their face. I saw a flash of white teeth, and a golden-brown eye, and recognized the hat.
I sprinted towards them, and skidded to a halt right in front of the person.
"Anna-maria!" I hissed.
"Scarr? What are you doing here?" she hissed back
"Giselle's gone!" I whispered frantically.
"What?"
"I woke up and she wasn't anywhere to be found! Her bed hadn't been slept in, she wasn't in the kitchen-"
"Take it easy. Let's retrace our steps. Where were you two together most recently before she disappeared?" Anna-maria asked in a soothing voice.
"Down at the docks-"
"And who might you be?" a gravelly bass voice inquired behind me. I knew that voice. Drawing my sword, I spun around and shouted, "YOU!"
His face showed confusion and surprise mixed together. His eyebrows were raised, his hands in the air, and his eyes were wide and darting all around. His mouth hung open. It would have been almost comical, had I not been in a murderous rage.
He recovered his composure almost immediately. His face relaxed, and his eyes went back to their normal size.
"Ah, you're that pretty little lass from the docks last night!"
I kicked him in the shin. "OW!" He roared
"WHERE'S GISELLE?" I screamed.
"Be damned if I know." he replied.
I kicked him where it hurt most and screamed, "YOU SLIMY GIT! YOU FILTHY BASTARD! YOU—"
I felt strong arms around my middle, and next thing I knew, I was being hoisted up in the air, with the breath being squeezed out of me, my arms and legs flailing around.
"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET GO OF ME! LET GO LET GO LET GO LET GO LE—"
"ENOUGH!" The man who captured me roared.
"Put her down lad, she's goin' purple in the face!" A chubby, red-faced man with sideburns beginning to gray with age and hair tied back in a ponytail frantically shouted at the man who was holding me.
I felt myself being lowered, and the air returned to my lungs.
"Now lass. What's all this about Giselle?" Sparrow squinted at me.
"You know bloody well what! Where is she, Sparrow?" I growled. My eyes were slits, and my fist was clenched around my sword so hard I couldn't feel my fingers. My heart hammered in my chest.
"I just told you I don't know!" Sparrow exclaimed.
"Oh really?" I yelled back.
"Why are you so concerned about her anyway?" Jack asked, taking a step back from me.
I didn't want to tell this man about the friendship Giselle and I shared. I felt I would be betraying Giselle if I told him. A flash of realization crossed Sparrow's sweaty face.
"She's your mum, ain't she?" he asked slyly.
"My WHAT?" I screamed.
"Shhh! Stop screaming! We'll help you find your Giselle. What does she look like?" The man in the leather vest asked. I looked up at him and thought carefully. I pictured Giselle clearly in my mind.
"She's about as tall as this person," I said, gesturing to Anna-maria, "She's got very light, kind of powdery blonde hair, her face is kind of thin and pale, with red lips, and she wears a dress with a gold and ivory embroidery pattern on it, with a small lace trim border at the collar, and a larger lace border around the bottom of the skirt." I finished.
As I looked at the man, I noticed something very familiar about his face; the way he crinkled his eyebrows while he was thinking, and the color of his eyes was very familiar also. It finally hit me. I knew this man. But I hadn't seen him since I was very little, only three or four.
"Will? Will Turner?" I stared at him.
"How do you know my name?" He frowned at me.
"Don't you remember me? It's me, Scarlett! Remember? We used to play together when we were little!"
"Scarlett? But how did you get here?" Will asked incredulously.
"I was sailing to Tortuga to stay with Giselle. She had been a great friend of my mother's. We were about ¾'s of the way to Tortuga when, right as we were about to sail into port, a pirate ship attacked us. The ship I was on was sunk, and I swam ashore. My parents abandoned me soon after you left Scotland for the Caribbean."
"I see." Will turned to Jack, a pleading look in his brown eyes.
"Jack, she's got nobody else to go to. Her guardian is gone, and she probably won't last a day without someone to protect her."
I nodded. Even though Tortuga was my home, I knew that without a grownup who knew their way around really well to protect me, I might as well simply shoot myself, because I would probably die anyway without a guardian.
Jack stroked his chin, deep in thought. Even though he probably now wanted nothing to do with me after my little scene, as I wanted nothing to do with him, he eventually sighed and said, with the air of one who is resolutely facing a terrible fate, yes, I could join the crew and sail with them to get the Black Pearl back.
"Thank you, Captain Sparrow." I said, injecting ice and venom into my voice. I turned to Will and said "Thanks Will", with a warm smile.
Jack, once satisfied that I was no longer going to attempt to hurt him anymore, turned back to the pirate he'd been questioning.
"You!" He said.
"That's Cotton, sir." the chubby man with side-burns said.
"Mr. Cotton. Do you have the courage and fortitude to stay brave in the face of danger and almost certain death?"
Mr. Cotton: "….."
"Mr. Cotton! Answer man!" Jack said more forcefully.
"He's a mute, sir. Had his tongue cut out." At this, Mr. Cotton opened his mouth to show that, although he had some wizened teeth, he did indeed, lack, a tongue.
Jack looked and stuck his own tongue out, whether in disgust or surprise, I know not.
"But he has trained the parrot to talk for him. No one yet knows how he did it."
Jack, looking distinctly uncomfortable, said, "Mr. Cotton's,….parrot. Same question."
"Wind in the sails, Squawk! Wind in the sails!" The parrot screeched.
"We take that to mean yes." The chubby man explained.
"And what's the benefit for us?" Anna-maria yelled.
Jack turned his head in her direction, and bent down to see her face under the hat. He pulled the hat off, revealing her long hair, and her poisonous glare.
"Anna-maria—" he began.
SLAP!
"And I suppose you didn't deserve that one, did you?" Will asked, chuckling slightly.
"No, that one I deserved." Sparrow replied.
"You stole, my, BOAT!"
"I simply—"
SLAP!
"Borrowed! Borrowed! With every intention of bringing it back!"
"But-you-DIDN'T!" Anna-maria screamed.
"You'll get another one!" Jack had a jolly smile on his face, despite the bright red hand mark on the side of his face. Anna-maria pointed a rigid finger threateningly in Jack's face, her glare more poisonous than ever.
"I will." She said with force.
"A better one!" Will added, a jovial smile on his face as well.
"A better one!" Jack repeated, the same stupid smile on his face.
"That one!" Will exclaimed, pointing to the Yellow and Navy blue ship bobbing in the distance. The Interceptor.
"What one?" Sparrow asked, following Will's finger. When he realized which ship Will was pointing to, his smile turned to the expression of one who has just had a terrible shock.
"That one?" He exclaimed, his feelings about this unpleasant surprise clearly evident on his face. H e seemed to consider it. Sighing, he gave up and said, with another fake smile plastered on his face, "Aye! That one! What say you?"
Anna-maria stroked her chin, deep in thought.
"Aye!" She yelled. And with that, she snatched her hat back from Sparrow, and stalked down the docks towards the ship.
"Aye!" Yelled the rest of the crew, and followed Anna-maria.
"Now Jack, it's frightful bad luck to have women aboard the ship—" the chubby man with the side-burns began, but Jack cut him off.
"They're comin' onboard, mate, and since I'm Captain, what I say goes."
"Technically, Anna-maria's now Captain of the ship since you gave it to her." I chimed in.
"Oh shut it, girlie. Just get on the ship." Jack glared at me.
"Aye aye, Captain Sparrow." I said, with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
It was clear that this was going to be a very long voyage.
A/N: Ta-da! End of Chapter 1! What do you guys think? Sorry I haven't posted anything in a really long time, but I don't have much time to go on my computer normally. I do not own any of the characters or the plot or pretty much anything else from Pirates of the Caribbean. This is something made purely for recreational enjoyment, not for profit or profit-making purposes. The only thing I own is my character Scarlett. So please don't sue me, Disney. Cheers! ~Cinnamonbear200
P.S. For all you Professor Layton lovers out there who are probably really mad at me for not updating my "New Beginnings" fanfic, new chapters will be coming soon!