An Explanation
First of all, this won't make much sense if you haven't read that multi-chapter story of mine, Harry & the Pirate, and will be somewhat spoilerish for you if you were planning to do so at some future point. A number of people have read it, of course, and this is for them, and especially for Captain Tish, who has been one of my most faithful readers. Months ago, when I first did that Drabble/Ficlet Request Meme, she requested Harry's POV when Jack was leading her down to his cabin at the end of Harry and the Pirate – but kept PG-13, of course. The latter requirement threw me, somewhat. Most of the action in that last chapter is purposely left to the reader's imagination, as it is most definitely not PG-13. However, I have finally managed to shed a little light on the scene she requested, while once again drawing the curtain before things get too deliciously smutty.
This is also written for the August/September Challenge on Black Pearl Sails, in which one is required to rework an old piece of one's writing, either a simple reedit, or a rewrite, possibly from another POV. I always like to kill two birds with one stone, if possible. ; )
Here's the original scene…
…Finally, goodbyes having been said and promises of quick returns made, all were back on board the Black Pearl. The moon, only one evening off the full, shone down golden as Harry, Elizabeth and Will joined some of the crew in waving goodbye to those left on the beach before Island House, as the ship made its way out of the bay, Jack's hand on the helm. Once out of sight of the bay, however, Jack gave the wheel to Cotton and joined his friends.
"Ah, thank God for the open sea," Jack said breathing deeply, savoring the moment. Then he looked at Harry, standing beside him. She smiled up at him, but her smile began to slip as his expression changed. "Gibbs," he said to his henchman, who stood close at hand, "you have the command. Lady Fanshawe and I have some…ah…unfinished business to take care of in my cabin. And don't disturb us unless I call, savvy?"
He had taken Harry's hand in a firm grasp and, ignoring her slight resistance, pulled her over to the companionway steps. He stepped down onto the first one, but turned and said, looking at Harry, "Oh, and Will, Gibbs? Hide all the knives, will you please?"
"But…Jack!" Harry protested as she was pulled out of sight down the steps. "Jack! Wait! Jack!"
Her protests and their footsteps faded down the passageway, and then the others heard the door of the Captain's Cabin close with a decided bang.
And now, the rewrite, from Harry's POV…
Threats and Promises
"Oh, dear," Harry muttered, watching Owens scramble monkey-like up the Pearl's unsteady Jacob's Ladder.
Elizabeth and Will had already climbed aboard, and her niece now peered down over the railing at her and called, "Come on, Aunt Harry! You know you can do it!"
"Aye," said Jack, from where he sat beside her. "You've no skirt to tuck up this time, and it'll be dead easy compared to your debarkation."
Harry turned to him, grimacing slightly at the laughter that lurked in his eyes. "But I had my fury with your highhanded behavior to sustain me, then. And I lost my grip on the sheets and fell when I was halfway down. You would have been excessively amused."
He chuckled. "And they didn't hear you screech? Gibbs must be bloody deaf."
Harry tilted her chin at him. "I did not 'screech'! There was no more than a slight splash."
"Ah! Commendable restraint. Up you get, then. Pretend you're still angry with me."
Harry sighed. "Does this mean you're not going to offer to carry me, as you did before?"
"Aye, it does. I'm lookin' forward to the view again. I think I mentioned that those breeches don't leave much to the imagination."
Her lips quivered. "Lecherous knave!" He inclined his head, acknowledging the justice of this, and she had to kiss him. Then she stood up. "All right!" she said, more to herself than to him. She took a deep breath, and faced the ladder once more.
He spoke as she took hold of the ropes. "One foot in front of the other, and don't look down, or up. I'll be right behind you."
"I know, I know," she said over her shoulder. "Admiring the view."
"Precisely."
It wasn't all easy. Her foot didn't slip this time, thank God, but her heart and her sore head were thudding uncomfortably before she reached the top and was caught and lifted to safety by Will and Gibbs. Elizabeth and Owens, and a few others actually clapped and cheered, and Jack, gaining the deck behind her, turned her about and gave her another quick kiss and a squeeze.
"That's my girl! Pluck to the backbone."
She laughed shakily at this generous assessment.
Jack said to Elizabeth and Will, "Take care of her for a bit for me, while I see us off."
Harry was thankful for the bright, silvery moonlight that masked her blush at the possible implications of this.
It was a cloudless night, and the folk left on the beach below Island House were clearly visible, watching and waving as the Black Pearl's crew manned their stations in the effort to make way. A cheerful shanty sprang up as they turned the capstan to raise the anchor; others swarmed up the ratlines and out onto the footropes below the yards, working to set the sails of the great ship, according to her captain's orders.
Harry stood at the rail, flanked by Will and Elizabeth, her heart calming somewhat. She was still sad to be leaving St. Claire so soon, though she understood Jack's stated reasons. Cray's thugs would be a danger to her people until they were removed from the island, but Jack would not transport the villains to the slave markets of Port au Prince until she and Elizabeth were safely off the Black Pearl and delivered into Weatherby's care.
And then, she suspected, there were Jack's unstated reasons…
Presently, the ship gave a delicious shiver, and Elizabeth exclaimed, "We're moving!" Eyes bright with happiness, the girl reached across for Will's hand. Harry slipped from between them, so that they could stand together. Elizabeth frowned at her in sudden concern. "Are you certain you are all right?"
"I am perfectly well, I assure you!" It was the truth, save for her headache, which doubtless had its origin from her encounter with the hilt of Cray's sword. She would be better for… for a good night's sleep.
There was a steady breeze polishing the moon and stars, and the Black Pearl picked up speed quite quickly as she headed out of the South Bay. As they completed their tasks, many of the crew gathered by the rail to wave goodbye to their new island friends. Gibbs, coming to stand near Harry, said, "Don't you worry, ma'am. Anamaria and that Judah, and your good housekeeper, Rachel, will keep all in order 'til you return."
Harry nodded. "Yes. I know they will do their best. There is so much work to be done, and so much needed. Cray left things in a sad state, I'm afraid, though his despicable cruelties cast those concerns into the shade while he lived."
"He's gone now, and good riddance. Jack did a fine job takin' care o' that this morning."
Harry nodded, remembering the terrors and thrills the dawn had brought them. It seemed strange to realize how few hours had passed since that time. Looking up at the night sky, she said a silent prayer of thanks.
In a surprisingly short time they were approaching the point… and then they were rounding it, and Island House and her people were lost to sight as the Black Pearl entered the deeper water of the open sea.
Shortly thereafter, Jack called to Cotton and Parrot, and Harry turned to watch as Cotton mounted the steps to the quarterdeck, his brightly colored friend giving a squawk of joy to be underway once more. They took the helm from their captain, and then Jack was trotting down the steps, and Harry felt a little frisson of anticipation run though her.
He was watching her as he approached, and she could feel her cheeks burning. She turned to gaze at the sea again.
But her choice had been made, many hours… maybe even days before, and when he came and slipped his arm about her, it felt so completely right that she instinctively leaned into his light embrace.
"Ah, thank God for the open sea!" he said, breathing deep.
Harry smiled, again, and dared to look up at him in spite of blushes. She found, however, that his eyes were not on the 'open sea' but on her, and they held a distinctly predatory gleam.
Her smile slipped, and she suddenly swallowed, hard.
"Gibbs," Jack said. "You have the command. Lady Fanshawe and I have some… ah… unfinished business to take care of in my cabin. And don't disturb us unless I call, savvy?"
As he'd spoken, he'd caught her hand in a firm grasp, and she now found herself inexorably drawn away from the others and towed across the deck to the companionway doors. Feeling oddly breathless, she could not seem to find her voice. Reaching the steps, Jack placed a booted foot on the first one, bethought himself of something, stopped and turned. He pinned her with his gaze, and with his words, too, though he addressed others.
"Oh, and Will, Gibbs? Hide all the knives, will you please?"
Harry's eyes widened, and she gave a little gasp of combined startlement and, yes, sudden fear as he pulled her, stumbling after him, down the steps. Snatches of past brangling and banter came horridly to mind…
…And let me tell you, if you ever lay violent hands on me again I won't rest 'til I've put a knife between your ribs!… If you don't end up across my knee being given what-for before the end of this voyage I, for one, will be truly amazed! … Have to admit it's a great temptation, seein' the way your sweet little arse looks in those breeches. All in good time though. It'll sustain me spirits, having something to look forward to when we get back to the Pearl
Her voice returned as they traversed the passage, and she protested, "But… Jack! Jack… wait! Jack!"
He paid no heed, merely hustling her into the warmth of the Great Cabin and slamming the door on the rest of the world.
She jerked her hand from his and turned to face him, setting her teeth and fists as he tossed his hat aside and stepped near, looming over her.
"What?" he said, silkily. Her breath caught as his hands slipped about her waist.
She did her best to look severe, and was pleased that her voice shook only a little as she said, "You shall not thrash me!"
He raised a supercilious brow. "No? And why's that, love?"
She could see that he was trying not to smile, and he was so close she could feel the warmth of his skin, and smell him, too, his own comfortable scent that had been in her nostrils all the previous night as he had cradled her against him in the storeroom, but fainter and overlaid now with the scent of soap from the bath Rachel had drawn them that afternoon. She could not help wanting to touch him, and ran her hands up his chest, tugging at his coat. As he obligingly pulled her close to kiss her, she replied, "Because… it would kill the mood, entirely!"
"Not for me," he smirked, and then his lips were on hers and he was pulling her tight against him. One hand splayed against her back, but the other slid down to the portion of her anatomy in question, caressing suggestively, and pressing her close.
She broke the kiss and gasped, laughing. "Oh, you are dreadful!"
"Am I?"
"Yes!" She kissed him again.
They were lost in each other for long moments, until the Pearl gave a sudden dip, tilting them off balance.
"She's trying to tell us something," Jack murmured.
"So it seems."
"The bed?"
"Mmm." She smiled, and then gave a shriek of laughter as he virtually snatched her up, with a gleefully sinister grin.
But then, when he had laid her down, and she was pulling at him in her eagerness, longing for his weight upon her, he hesitated, his hands tangling in her hair, restless thumbs stroking her temples, and his expression grew unwontedly sober.
"Are you sure about this?"
Her heart grew so full at this seemingly unpiratical consideration that she could barely speak. She let go of his coat and her hands slipped up to catch his beautiful face between them. She said, unsteadily, but most seriously, "I have rarely been more certain of anything in my life."
"Oh, my God," he muttered, and kissed her. She gave an involuntary sound of sheer pleasure, and responded with appropriate enthusiasm. He seemed to find this most gratifying. When they finally paused for breath he drew back slightly and looked at her in wonder. "Are you sure you're Swann's sister?"
She laughed. "Yes – although I must admit he often accused me of being a changeling."
"One o' the Fair Folk, eh?" He kissed her again, more gently, and added, "Could be he was right."
Oddly, this remark brought forth another, less easy memory.
He noticed the subtle change, immediately. "What is it?"
Nothing! nearly escaped her lips, but she caught herself. She cleared her throat, and could not quite meet his eyes as she said, "I… I have told you a little of my past. I am quite determined it shall not spoil the present. But…"
"But…?"
"Well, there may be things – perhaps a great deal – that you will have to teach me." Uncharacteristically shy, she looked up again, and once more felt a hot blush suffuse her cheeks.
He was trying not to smirk, but the dark eyes gleamed. "That right?"
"Yes." Her gaze fell again, but she shivered with happiness as his lips met her burning cheek. She turned her face against the cool pillow, closing her eyes with a sigh of delight.
"I daresay we'll manage," he murmured, lips moving across her cheek to her ear.
A little gasp escaped her, as his teeth caught the lobe with a tiny bite, just short of pain, and then soothed the flesh with his tongue.
"Oh!" she breathed.
"Mmmm," he agreed, and whispered his first lesson into her ear: "Trust me."
o-o-o-o-o