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If Only I Could Believe:
The Crimson Lagoon
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Smoke. Fire. Screaming. Two men, one clutching a young girl under one arm and holding a gun in another, the other yelling. The empty handed one lunging. A gunshot.
Gwendolyn sat up in her bed with a start, sweat pouring down her face. She looked around a moment, taking in the room and recalling the dream. She didn't spend much time doing so; the dream was common to her. With a groan, she pushed herself over to the edge of the bed, small feet fumbling around for slippers on the cold wood floor. Once the slippers were on, she stood and collected her robe from a chair a few feet away, pulling it on over her nightclothes. Moments later, a door leading into the room opened.
"Right on time, as always, Riley" Gwen smirked as a sandy-haired man entered the room.
"Unfortunately, you always manage to get that robe on, no matter how early I get here," Riley chuckled.
"You mean 'luckily.' You'd have two eyes blackened if you succeeded." Gwen moved to a small mirror and brush resting on a wood dresser across the room.
"Two? You'd never give me more than one and you know it!"
"Yes, two. One from me and one from John," she said calmly as she brushed long, chestnut hair back, glancing at Riley's reflection in the mirror.
"John, now, aye? I have doubts there. More likely, he'd ask about the view," Riley stepped back, grabbed the door's handle and pulled it in front of himself moments before the brush would have hit him. Instead, it rebounded off the door and onto the floor. "Nice aim, Gwen."
"Aye, good aim, but the worst luck in the Caribbean all the same. Now, out before I have second thoughts about giving you that black eye." With a hearty laugh, Riley obeyed, closing the door completely behind him. Gwen shook her head with a sigh as she went to retrieve the brush from the floor. As she was standing up, the door opened again.
"Sorry ta interrupt again, but you don't seem to be in the best of moods this morning."
"How could you ever tell?" Gwen answered tartly as she returned to the mirror and began to brush again. Riley leaned against the doorframe, a worried look grazing his usually jolly face.
"Normally you throw the brush flat end towards me," he paused a moment, waiting for an answer. When he failed to receive one, he gave his own inquiry, "Was it that dream again? The one about your father?"
Gwen stopped brushing her hair, and lowered the brush onto the dresser, silent. She observed his reflection again before closing her eyes and giving a slight nod. Only Riley and John, Riley's best friend, the local blacksmith, and Gwen's fiancé, knew about her past. She had harbored a strong hatred for pirates ever since the night she saw one shoot her father as he kidnapped her during a raid when she was seven years old. That was the day her streak of bad luck began. While most of the women and children taken hostage had been sold into slavery on less pleasant islands, the crew of The Vengeance decided to use the child for a play toy for abuse and an assistant to the chef, who was simply known as Cookie. A few years she spent there, unable to escape until one day when she was sixteen during a fight with another pirate ship. She was taken to the other ship and later sold. In a fit of confusion, anger, and fear she killed the man she was to call Master. When his body was found, she was beside it, crying miserably, hands covered with blood. She admitted to the murder and was jailed there on the island. A year she passed in the jail cell, alone but for the catcalls of other prisoners whom she ignored, when pirates again raided the island. They broke her and the other prisoners from their respective cells and took only her aboard. The time she spent on the third pirate ship she barely noticed until they let her go, unsold and unslaved, in Riley Bate's Tavern.
"Riley?"
"Aye?"
"Why'd you
let me stay here?"
"You've not stayed anywhere
else since my uncle brought you here."
Gwen paused a moment in thought.
"Yes…you did say the captain of that ship was your uncle, didn't you? I'd…forgotten."
Riley studied Gwen for a moment before approaching her and resting a hand on her shoulder.
"I know you hate them, Gwen, but you've got to realize that not all pirates are bad. You said yourself you barely even noticed your trip here after Uncle's crew broke you from the jail. He told me you didn't do anything the whole way there, no eating, no talking, nothing except for drinking, and that they had to coerce you to do."
"They're pirates, Riley. They steal what doesn't belong to them and don't care who they hurt. Whether they have good or bad intentions towards me doesn't change that fact. Pirates are all the same underneath, and I hope the navy will finish every last one of them off."
An awkward silence passed between the two as Riley released her shoulder.
"You've got a lot to learn, poppet," he shook his head solemnly and left Gwen alone in the solitude of the room, her question still unanswered.
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"Anything else you need before we open today, Riley?" Gwen glanced over the list of supplies Riley had made. It was rather short today; she'd have plenty of time to visit John before The Rusty Dagger, Riley's pub, opened. For the past six years since Riley's uncle had left her behind there, she'd been helping him as a barmaid and overall assistant. It was there she had met John, who had previously been Riley's assistant while apprenticing under the old blacksmith. The meeting was awkward at first, but Riley volunteered his friend to show Gwen around, and they hit it off not long after. Now that John was the official blacksmith and his business was doing well, he had proposed to her only three weeks earlier, and she had accepted readily.
"No, that's all. Business was rather slow last night. Just those few things should be all," Riley didn't look up as he mopped the floor of the pub.
"Aye, then. I'll be back by one."
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"That be all yer needin, lass?" the old shopkeeper chuckled as he handed her back her basket, now full of staples for herself and Riley. Gwen smiled softly and nodded.
"Aye, thank you, sir," she replied as she took the basket from him.
"So, you n Johnny got the weddin' date planned yet? He ain't talkin' much of it, but the lot of us'r dyin ta know when the lad's finally goin ta be tamed."
"John? Tamed? Those two words don't go well together, Mr. Smith. We're planning for the Sunday after the next. The governor's already given us his graces."
"Wonderful!" Mr. Smith laughed heartily. "Eh, don't mean ta upset ye, lass, but seems some stranger over thar's got an eye on ye."
"Huh?" Gwen looked around over her shoulder, curious as to his meaning. A stranger indeed was looking her way. Her eyes widened as she took in the whole of him. His clothes were the same as many others she had seen before, pirate garments.
"Problem, lass?" Mr. Smith raised an eyebrow at the sudden change in Gwen's demeanor.
"No, no. Thank you again, Mr. Smith." With a small nod, she turned and began to walk away.
"Ahh, Miss Gwen!" Mr. Smith called out from behind her.
"Aye?"
"Ye fergot t'pay fer that."
"Oh…I….Forgive me." Gwen blushed. She was so flustered by the sudden appearance of a pirate, she had forgotten she hadn't crossed his palm with the proper amount of shillings. She reached into the basket to withdraw her change purse, but instead found a hand beside her holding out a few shillings to Mr. Smith.
"Such a lovely lady shouldn't have ta pay for her own livin' needs," the dark haired pirate smiled at her, revealing a few gold teeth. Gwen grimaced at the sight.
"I believe I'm quite capable of paying for myself, thank you. I don't need help from the likes of you." Pulling out the small change purse from her basket, she withdrew five shillings and placed them in Mr. Smith's waiting hand.
"The likes of me? What'd'ye take me for, luv?"
"A pirate," Gwen turned and began to walk away, hoping he'd realize that she did not want to speak with him any further. This was not to be the case. She groaned quietly as he ran up beside her.
"Ain't nothin' wrong with pirates, lass, not if you get to know 'em…you look familiar. Have we met before?"
"Considering my luck with your type, I wouldn't be bloody surprised!" Gwen turned and glared at the pirate, frustration showing in every part of her face. "Because of pirates, I lost my family, my home, my freedom, and most of the years of my youth! Now if you do not stop following me, I'll be introducing a bullet to your skull. I've done it before and I won't be short of doing it again to you." With a huff, she turned once again and headed back towards the blacksmith's shop.
"Touchy lass…" the pirate mumbled, rubbing the back of his head as he watched her go.
Relief flooded Gwen's mind as she realized the pirate was no longer following her. Perhaps her luck was changing. The thought brought a smile to her face unlike any other smile the islanders had seen from her. The smile brightened, though, upon Gwen sighting a youth outside of the blacksmith's shop, presenting a blade to a customer.
"Lightweight, with the blades dulled, just as you requested, sir," the smithy grinned, placing the weapon back inside its case. "Your son should be perfectly safe training with that one. Of course, I hope you'll return when he's ready for a real blade."
"Of course, of course master Jonathon, but don't expect me any day soon. You know the lad when it comes to lessons."
"Aye!" John laughed aloud, music to the ears of the woman listening. The man departed, waving farewell to the bachelor-soon-to-be-husband smith.
"John!" Gwen called out, drawing the youth's attention from the retreating back of his client.
"Gwen, darling!" John rushed over without a moments thought after seeing his fiancée's face. "I feared you'd not be by today!" Strong arms enveloped the woman's tiny body and pulled her into a kiss. Gwen sighed happily in this moment, all thoughts of pirates and past washed from her mind within the arms of the one man she loved.
"Not even God Himself could stop me from seeing you, love," Gwen reached up and ran a hand through his curly black hair. "And I personally would like to see him try any day of the week until we're married."
"Ah, yes…so far away and yet so close. But what sort of husband-to-be am I, keeping you out here? Come inside, darling."
Gwen let herself be led into the blacksmith's shop, unaware of a pair of startling green eyes watching the lovers from afar. John pulled out a chair from a table and offered Gwen the seat. She took it, blushing bashfully. She had never spoke on it, but after being treated like a woman, a true woman, after nearly ten years of being treated like the lowest of all scums, she enjoyed acting the way she did, like a giddy child, when she was around the man of her affections. The sound of metal clanking against metal alerted her thoughts to John. He had moved away from her and was over by a set of swords, withdrawing one from the pile.
"Is this it…ah, yes, there's the beauty…" he whispered to himself, yet loud enough for Gwen to hear his words. He slid the weapon into a leather sheath, walked back over to the table where Gwen sat, and laid the ensemble before her.
"What's this, John? A new piece of perfection to show off?" Gwen joked flirtatiously, although she knew flirtation was no longer necessary.
"No, love, it's a piece of art for a piece of perfection." He slid the sword's hilt against her hand with a light tap. It was a simple hilt, the image of a ring embed on both sides with a white pearl as the top of the ring. "The white ring pictured on this sword could never compare in beauty to the white ring I behold in my eyes." John smiled mischievously. Gwen gave him a look of confusion.
"Your name, darling. Gwendolyn. It means 'white ring'."
Gwen was silent for a moment as her fingers brushed against the sword. Her lips parted then, and she laughed softly.
"You horrid flirt," she got to her feet, approached the smithy and laid a kiss on his cheek.
"If flirting be a crime then I'm guilty as charged, darling. The sword is my wedding gift for you, albeit a bit early," John's face twisted into a serious one, rather than his normal, cheery disposition. "I wanted to give it to you as soon as possible. I have a dread feeling in the back of my mind that something is going to happen, and I want you to be as best protected as possible."
"John don't say such things! Nothing is going to happen to us. Nothing. I said it before and I say it again. Not even God will keep me apart from you, love. Nothing at all."
She embraced him then, and although she couldn't be completely sure, she thought she heard him whisper, "If only I could believe it…"
"Oh, John, I almost forgot…" Gwen reached into a pocket she had sewn onto her dress. Her hand closed around a cold metal object. Withdrawing it, she took John's hand in her empty one, pulled it over towards her and placed the item in it.
"It's…a key," John raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Gwen nodded.
"I don't remember exactly where I got it. I think I forgot when I was…after the second ship."
"Ah," he nodded knowingly.
"I don't know how I forgot. Maybe I just forced it from my head, but that was the only thing they let me keep. It was my sanity there. My comfort, my life…it was my only possession. And now, now it's yours. You're all the comfort I need, John."
"I'll be sure not to let Riley hear that repeated," John grinned jokingly as he laid the gift on the table. "You should run along, darling, before you're late. Riley opens soon."
"Aye," Gwen nodded, a sad look tingeing her face. John smiled softly at his fiancée and pressed his lips against her forehead.
"I'll drop by tonight if I have time. If not, then tomorrow morning. Run along, love. Don't keep your bartender waiting."
The thought of seeing him again so soon brightened Gwen's features. Leaving a quick kiss on the blacksmith's cheek, she picked up her basket and proceeded to depart.
"Gwen!"
She turned as one foot was out of the blacksmith's door. John held the sheathed sword out. "You forgot your gift, darling."
"Ah…yes," she blushed in her forgetfulness as he approached her and handed it to her.
"Riley will have a belt for you to attach that to. If he gives you any trouble, just threaten to hit him over the head with the sharp end," John chuckled. Gwen smiled and kissed him again before leaving. As she walked away, John watched her in the doorway. Neither noticed the pair of green eyes watching them from a dark alley.
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"So it's here, then?"
"Aye, sir. The lass had it."
"And does she still?"
"No, sir. Tis in the 'ands of the blacksmith."
"Very well then. No matter."
"What'll we do with the lass, captain?"
"Kill her. She'll know too much."
"And the smithy? He ain't gonna give it up that easy."
"Your point?"
"What if 'e fights back?"
"Ye know the answer to that. Kill him as well."
"Aye, sir."
"Spread the word that we attack tonight, when the city sleeps."
"Aye."
To Be Continued…
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Well, chapter one of my first PotC original character fic complete! Actually, it's mainly Original…anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the first installment. I've put a lot of work and thought into creating the characters and the plot. Now it's time for the all-important FORESHADOWING END OF CHAPTER QUESTIONS!!
……aw, heck, do you really need them? You know you'll find out most of them in the next chapter. Reviews are much appreciated for continuation!