Elsa was trying to concentrate on the road, but the lack of lights and Amy snoring in the passengers seat didn't help. She shook her head, "C'mon Elsy girl, wake up!" She muttered to herself, "We have to get there. We have to be there tonight." They were driving to Amy's parents to see her father. They lived so far away and, now that they had decided to move to America together, it was her last chance to see her parents and for Elsa to see her father.
Their families had been friends for as long back as the girls could remember, and when Elsa mother had died from cancer her father moved into the granny flat on her parents' land. Just thinking about her father, worried and wrinkled, curled in bed, waiting for his baby girl to come say goodbye.
Just thinking about it made her eyelids droop and the car swerve off the road. Elsa widened her eyes, trying not to blink, but it was hopeless. She drifted off again, her head slumping against her shoulder, her mouth open. The car drifted off the side of the road and onto the open grassland, where the trees were scattered inconsistently, something to feel thankful for. The car hit a rock, jerking it violently to the left and waking the girls up to see an old, gnarled tree illuminated in the highbeams. "Elsa!" Amy screamed, gripping her friends arm tightly. Elsa screamed and slammed down on the brakes as hard as she could, twisting the steering wheel sharply, but it was too late. The car struck the tree, low-lying branches breaking through the windshield, and the girls, who had neglected to put on their seatbelts, flew through the broken glass.
Amy thanked her lucky stars she covered her head with her arms, so she was fully aware of going through the windscreen, hearing Elsa's shriek as she went headfirst. Then she was aware they were in a puddle. A deep, deep puddle. "Elsa?" She asked, but found she was drowning, underwater. Panic set in and she kicked, her hands outstretched, searching for the night air. She emerged, her eyes looking desperately for her friend. "Elsa!" She screamed, "Elsa! Help!" Her limbs were sore and the cuts on her arms were painful, stinging in the saltwater. "Man overboard!" She heard someone cry from above, a splash, and then a strong arm was pulling her swiftly through the water. "No!" she yelled at him, "My friend's still there, unconscious!" Another splash, and another arm was pulling her upwards, hissing in her ear "Climb!" and clambering up a thick rope.
She collapsed on the wooden planks of what she know assumed to be a boat, screaming, "Els! Elsa!" She curled into a ball, losing herself to shock, shivering from the cold wind. A coat was draped over her, and the voice who had saved her said, "Sir, he's going into hysterics. Should I put him below?" Another man poke the affirmative, and she was hoisted up and set on her feet. "Walk, lad." She realized she was being marched forward, to a room of some kind, without knowing where until she heard a harsh metal clang. Oh, she thought, I've been sent to jail. Amy twisted her arm to examine the bloody cuts, the coat falling off her shoulders. She picked a few pieces of glass out, wincing at the sight of it being pulled out of her flesh, and then bent to examine the coat in the dim light. It reminded her of something she'd seen in a movie, and what was the ocean doing in the middle of the country anyway?
Jack looked down at the young man curled at his feet, with blood oozing from his forehead and into his dark, unbound hair. He had decidedly delicate, feminine features, but no lady would dress in men's clothes, not even out here, on the open water. No, he thought, shaking his head, no woman could survive the brutalities of the sea.
He bent down to check his breathing - It was even, a little fast, like he was out of breath, but that was to be expected. He picked the boy up, intending to return him to his friend until they were both awake and ready to answer some questions. The lad was light, like his bones were hollow like a bird, and Jack didn't even raise a sweat carrying him below, where the other one was sitting on the floor, head in his arms. This one is definitely male, he thought. No girl would allow herself to become so brown from the sun, nor cut off all her locks. He opened the door and placed the boy gently on the floor, wary of the other one attacking him in a fruitless attempt to escape. No such excitement, however. He merely stayed where he was, hidden underneath his arms.
He considered the two for a second, then turned his heel to return to the deck. "Wherever could they could have come from?" He asked his captain, who merely shrugged. "We have come across no other ship, boat, or even a piece of floating debris. They have seemingly appeared out of nowhere." Jack frowned. They could not have lasted floating in the ocean for more than an hour, not with one of them unconscious, or with the average swimming skills the other one still had. "'tis a mystery, sir. Should I bring them food?" The short, bulky man shook his head. "Wait until the sun rises, so we may see the lads better and ask them what they be doin' out here." Jack turned away, ready to retire to his hammock, tired from his unexpected ocean rescue.
"Elsa. Elsa! Wake up!" Elsa opened her eyes, taking in her surroundings, turning to her side and throwing up. Coughing and spluttering, she turned back to Amy, eyes bleary. "God, why is the floor moving? Where are we? Am I dead?" Amy was obviously panicking, her caramel skin flushed and her head bobbing up and down like a parrot. "We're on a pirate ship, in the ocean! We were in the water and they rescued us..." She bit her lip. "Wait, the ocean?" Elsa held up a hand, and collapsed to the floor without the extra balance. "Pirates? Please say you mean Japanese whalers or something." Amy shook her head, the ends of her obnoxiously short hair getting in her eyes. Elsa coughed, throwing up more water and wrinkling her nose is disgust. "I remember bright lights. And a tree. Are we dead?" What about my dad, Elsa thought quietly to herself. He'll think I abandoned him. "I dunno, but they think we're boys." Amy hid a girlish giggle behind her hand. "Which sucks because they guy who brought you down was totally hot, and -" Elsa shushed her quickly by standing up, almost losing balance, to examine the cell they were held in, and the rest of their surroundings. "I think on a ship full of men," she stated, "it would be more beneficial that we're known as men, or boys. Or whatever they think we are. Good thing I wore this." She looked down at herself; her chosen apparel was simply a men's tailored shirt and leggings. She hadn't expected to meet anyone in the car, so she dressed simply for comfort, which was lucky. The bagginess of the shirt disguised her curves so that she lost pretty much all of her body shape while wearing it. Amy was wearing also wearing a somewhat baggy shirt, but she resembled a pole more than anything, so she didn't really need to worry. "So, Andrew. We were made to walk the plank, eh?" Elsa said, and Amy brightened. "Uh huh. I mean, yes, uh... Edmund." Amy laughed again, and Elsa joined in.
Jack punched the hard, wooden mast. These feelings, they were not natural. They were definitely not women, so why was he still attracted to the dark-haired one? He was a passionate man, yes, and the many faces that still bore the scars of his prowess in battle were evidence enough. However, he had never wanted to both fight a man and embrace him, not at the same time. But this Edmund... It simply wasn't fair. He punched the mast again, and ignoring the blood flowing from his knuckles, he drained his bottle, gasping appreciatively as the dark liquor lit a fire at the back of his throat, and collapsed on the stairwell, dead asleep.
They both were sitting on the floor, and Elsa rested her head against the wall, listening to the sounds of the ocean. "So, was he like, really hot, like, as in Orlando Bloom hot?" Amy laughed again and shook her head, and glanced up. "Watch out," she hissed out of the corner of her mouth. "Lover-boy is here." Smirking pretentiously, Amy didn't take her eyes off Elsa, wanting to see her reaction. Elsa could be a little funny around guys. She usually threw her guards up, hardly speaking, and when she did she was sarcastic and defensive. Poor girl, thought Amy, who was a regular flirt.
Elsa stared downed the man. He was tall, and he wore no shirt underneath his coat. A smile danced around his lips as he looked at the two girls, carrying a jug and a plate of what Elsa hoped was food. He looked unkempt - His shoulder-length blonde hair unbound, his face roughly unshaven, and it sent a shiver up Elsa's spine. He looked slightly unbalanced, dangerous, a passionate man used to violence. Or was that how everyone looked here? She couldn't tell.
Then he looked into her eyes.
Her world exploded. Do I know you? What was he? It was like some demon had just gave her an electric shock, and judging by the expression on his face, h felt it too. He looked down, ashamed, angry at himself. Elsa floundered. Do I say something? She thought helplessly, but really she wanted to get up and fight him, or kiss him, or both. She drew her knees tighter up against her stomach, as if they would protect her. "Food," he said, opening the door and placing it on the floor. "And ale," he put the jug down next to the plate, and Amy set upon it, ravenous. The plate merely contained a hunk of bread, but Amy tossed Elsa half, and she set about demolishing the rest. "So... How did you end up in the water? What are your names?" Amy took a long drink from the jug, spluttered, and tore another chunk off the bread. "Andrew," she said through her full mouth. "Edmund," she jerked a thumb back at Elsa, who was all of a sudden finding her feet extremely interesting. "We, urm, were kinda kicked off our last ship." She swallowed loudly, wondering what was with the tension in the room. Elsa was being totally silent, and the man was off in his own world. "Right. Foreigners, I can tell by your... Strange accents. We will be nearing Tortuga soon, so I am sure you will be reunited with your crew, or find a different work. I'm afraid you cannot stay here." With that he stood up and left them alone, walking with a slight limp. "Wait!" Elsa jerked up, avoiding his eyes and staring at his chin instead. "What?" He snapped. She shook her head, and he stomped up the stairs.
"You like 'im," Amy was struggling to speak through her unchewed food, but the angry red colour Elsa turned was an indication that she had been understood. She opened her mouth to retort indignantly, but Amy cut her off. "I could sense it, okay? And keep your hormones in check, at least till we get to this Tortuga place. Got it? Or we're screwed. They'll probably throw us overboard." Elsa didn't reply, but instead swiped the jug and drained the cool liquid, down to the very last drop. She threw it across the room and, hiding her head in her arms, fell into a light, fitful sleep, filled with the image of her father waiting by his window, a tear trickling down his face as he realised his daughter was a no-show.
Jack punched the hard, wooden mast. These feelings, they were not natural. They were definitely not women, so why was he still attracted to the dark-haired one? He was a passionate man, yes, and the many faces that still bore the scars of his prowess in battle were evidence enough. However, he had never wanted to both fight a man and embrace him, not at the same time. But this Edmund... It simply wasn't fair. He punched the mast again, and ignoring the blood flowing from his knuckles, he drained his bottle, gasping appreciatively as the dark liquor lit a fire at the back of his throat, and collapsed on the stairwell, dead asleep.